Fight Song

wear your bullseye
then run and hide

all our memory
a sinking tide

constant motion
no new scenery

a fire at the
popcorn factory

all our memory
up in smoke

come and find me here

first the glory
then the trauma
write it all down

first the glory
then the trauma
we all fall down

white as shock
black as stillness
in the light
we appear grey

all the alarm bells
they should be ringing
but we’ve tuned them out

all the alarm bells
they should be ringing
but we’ve cast them out

all the alarm bells
they should be ringing
but we’re fading out

all the alarm bells…