(Verse 1)
Yo, lemme just snatch the mic, can't just stand by and watch this pathetic sideshow
I'm gettin' psychotic, this world's a goddamn spiral, a psycho-
logical horror show, watchin' the broadcast and wanna just throw
my remote through the drywall, my skull's an echo chamber of "NO!"
They're sellin' us cataclysm and callin' it news, what a parody
Got me starin' at my kids, and the sheer fuckin' terror is tearin' me
apart at the seams, man, what am I leavin' these three?
This ain't a playground, it's a social disease, a Petri
dish of deceit, they get you to click and then feed you the fission
You're glued to the screen, a slave to the crooked politician's vision
They're buildin' up digital walls, a prison of pixels you're trapped in
Like toddlers battlin' over a plastic bin, it's happenin'
right in front of us, screamin' this crap is 'mine', drawin' some arbitrary line
While the ground beneath is collapsin', neglectin' the structural design
My kids are learnin' their ABCs, I see 'em sleepin', so peaceful and calm
And I'm feelin' the heat from a verbal napalm bomb, it's World War III on your palm.
(Chorus)
They're auctionin' off your kid's future, it's already been sold!
For a meme and a retweet, a story that's cleverly told!
And I look at my offspring, their eyes are still seein' the good
But I'm seein' the wolves comin' straight for their childhood!
This ain't some fable I'm spinnin', no fairy tale I recite
This is the cancerous rot that is growin' with all of its might!
A planet that's spun off its axis, a populace totally clawed
By the puppeteers, got me screamin' inside, "Oh my God!"
(Verse 2)
This information superhighway's a twenty-car pile-up, a wreckage of wreckage
They gut the facts with a box-cutter, sell you the blood-spattered message
It's a binary cage match, "us versus them," no discussion, no quarter is given
A primitive, tribal division, you're driven to hate all the livin'
that don't look or think like you do, it's intellectual treason
They pit you against your own neighbor for no logical reason
And the talking heads are the gas station attendants, they're happy to pour
the fuel on the fire and lock all the doors, then they ask you for more
engagement, more comments, more venomous bile that you spew
while the puppet master's countin' his revenue, screw you and you!
My boy asks me 'bout heroes, who's evil, who's decent and righteous
And the list of the good guys is gettin' so microscopic, it frightens
me, how do I teach 'em to reason, to think with a critical mind
When the world's bein' led by the angry, the hateful, the blind?!
(Chorus)
They're auctionin' off your kid's future, it's already been sold!
For a meme and a retweet, a story that's cleverly told!
And I look at my offspring, their eyes are still seein'
FranX
