Dead Songs - Thursday

Dead songs are drowning out voices of compassion with a sigh

«Alright?»

Alright

Deadlines are winding down

Fatal clocks keep ticking off dead time

Nothing hurts, nothing moves, nothing stays

No one hopes and no one dreams

Nothing matters when the dead songs play

Reject the death

When all the color fades away

The world is black and white

Dead breath from TV sets fill the empty houses with a dead white light

It’s no surprise

Dead checks, dead sex

Dead cigarettes flood the ambulance in the dead of night

Alright?

Alright

Nothing hurts, nothing moves, nothing stays

No one hopes and no one dreams

Nothing matters when the dead songs play

Reject the death

When all the color fades away

The world is black and white

There’s a dead song on the audio tape

The strongest magnet couldn’t wipe away

Singing, «It's alright.»

But it’s not alright

Then: pinpricks on the back of your neck

A little voice inside you says

«When you hear dead songs, don’t sing along--let it die.»

Lift your small voices up

And we’ll stitch these cries into a choir

Our lonely notes form chords that the orchestra just can’t divide

Alright