Lyrics
The television above the bar has given up on sound The captions tell me everything I need to not be found Another city, another sky, another expert on the screen The bartender pours without being asked He knows what this kind of quiet means The world's been ending long enough It's got its own theme song Its own graphics package now Its own familiar wrong Even with the volume off I know exactly how this goes Every angle, every talking head In a fire that nobody chose The feed rolls on And I watch it from my stool The feed rolls on Relentless, like it thinks this is still news I'm not indifferent — I'm somewhere past the words for what I feel The feed rolls on And the world burns where it's real A woman holds a photograph of someone she can't find A politician finds a word that means the opposite of kind The chyron changes twice before I finish what I'm drinking I order something heavier To give my hands a reason for not thinking I told myself one drink — the same lie as last Tuesday I told myself I'd stop before the second segment ran But the feed has learned the precise temperature of my attention And it serves me just enough to keep me watching while it can The feed rolls on And I watch it from my stool The feed rolls on Relentless, like it thinks this is still news I'm not indifferent — I'm somewhere past the words for what I feel The feed rolls on And the world burns where it's real I could turn away I know that option exists I could fold up the horror And file it on a list For later, for never For someone more equipped But the feed knows I'm watching And it never lets me quit The feed rolls on I settle up and find the door The feed rolls on In every pocket, every lit window, every floor I step into the street The night air, cold and clean The feed rolls on In everything between