Secession
Navigating Precipices: A Poetic Tale of Solidarity and Change
Lyrics
Oh hell can't you see I've been tightrope walking on the edge of the precipice we dig while waiting for the world to change.
Expressing the challenging nature of life, navigating a precarious situation, waiting for societal changes.
I guess I'm fine sometimes, with a thin pendulum in hands.
Acknowledging occasional contentment, holding a delicate balance symbolized by a thin pendulum.
I guess I'm fine sometimes.
Reiterating the acceptance of occasional well-being.
Advised to keep my head up straight, I still look at both my sides, for it's in camaraderie I seek for the future I haven't found on the curbs of ghost cities we built with our best excuses.
Struggling to maintain composure while seeking a better future, reflecting on ghost cities built with weak excuses.
But if our memories ain't for sale we sure don't own the sceneries.
Highlighting the inability to sell memories, implying a lack of control over one's experiences.
we'll put our names on boulevards, so they speak to us.
Symbolically claiming ownership of streets by putting names on boulevards, desiring acknowledgment.
We'll burn all streets and cul-de-sacs, so they shine for us.
Expressing a desire to make an impact, burning streets for recognition and significance.
And I beg for help When I call your names.
Pleading for assistance, seeking support from unspecified individuals.
The welcoming arms of fantasized allies.
Referring to the idealized comfort provided by imagined allies.
It's a story I guess I tell myself when I'm at home, about the power of the number contradicting a silent phone.
Telling a personal story about finding solace in a contradiction between power and a silent phone.
I guess I'm fine sometimes with a thin pendulum in hands. I guess I'm fine sometimes, don't let me down until it ends.
Reiterating the acceptance of occasional well-being, fearing disappointment until the end.
In the precipice we fall, one by one.
Describing a collective fall into a precipice, symbolizing a descent into difficulties.
Knee deep in the fear, the hate, the shame, the doubt, the pain.
Being immersed in negative emotions—fear, hate, shame, doubt, and pain.
And we spit at the help we are given, with condescension in return.
Expressing ingratitude for help received, met with condescending attitudes in return.
In the coldness of our hearts, we dance, we dance, On the soundtrack of a life that leaves a bitter taste.
Portraying a cold-hearted dance amidst life's bitter experiences.
Wandering around the blizzard, a coughing lighter in hand.
Navigating difficulties with a struggling flame, searching for direction in a metaphorical blizzard.
Hoping for an exit sign to shine anywhere above our heads.
Hoping for a way out, symbolized by an exit sign above, in the midst of challenges.
We cry like the little kids we are Losing at a game we didn't want to play.
Comparing the struggles to children losing an unwanted game, expressing emotional vulnerability.
It's a future-eating machine and on our solitude and fears it sharpens billions of teeth.
Describing a destructive force, sharpening its teeth on solitude and fears, representing societal challenges.
Some things stay alive when we're enough to want it.
Suggesting that certain aspects of life persist when there is a desire for their survival.
And solidary we shine, solidary we create.
Emphasizing unity and creativity in the face of challenges.
And solidary we rise, and hand in hand we change. If we don't pick the music we'll just refuse to dance.
Highlighting the power of solidarity in effecting change, with a refusal to participate in undesirable circumstances.
And if this world's way too sick we'll watch it die hand in hand, In a secession of colors.
Contemplating the possibility of a collective withdrawal from a sick world, using the term "secession of colors" metaphorically.
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