This is not you newest anthem for your underground.
We don't even have to listen to the open sound
of all the times that we have choked
on all the promises you've broken,
all the lies you've left unspoken,
all the doors you've left unopened.
And all the time we traveled, we were standing still,
and all the moments noticed were just dead-ends filling
every nervous need of time with
newer strains of broken lines that
you decided we should sign,
giving away all our lives.
And we can't decide
if all our time
was spent inside
out of our minds.
Are we alive?
Did we survive
all of your lies?
We're out of time.
And everything's all right.