Dead songs are drowning out voices of compassion with a sighn“Alright?” Alright.nDeadlines are winding downnFatal clocks keep ticking off dead timennNothing hurts, nothing moves, nothing stays (No one hopes and no one dreams)nNothing matters when the dead songs play (Reject the death)nWhen all the color fades away, the world is black and whitennDead breath from TV sets fill the empty houses with a dead white lightnIt’s no surprisenDead checks, dead sex, dead cigarettes flood the ambulance in the dead of nightnAlright? Alright.nnNothing hurts, nothing moves, nothing stays (No one hopes and no one dreams)nNothing matters when the dead songs play (Reject the death)nWhen all the color fades away, the world is black and whitennThere’s a dead song on the audio tapenThe strongest magnet couldn’t wipe awaynSinging, “It’s alright” but it’s not alrightnThen: pin-pricks on the back of your necknA little voice inside you says, “When you hear dead songs don’t sing along – let it die.”nLift your small voices up and we’ll stitch these cries into a choirnOur lonely notes form chords that the orchestra just can’t divide.nAlright?