born in the floodnbloody fingerpaint setsnblackmarketed freshnwater canons forget me notnepitaph airbrush with deathnwhite tee'snwife beatersnbutton upnreattach fleshnnin between the linesnoutside of the lawnunderneath the veilnwe dig our foundationsnwe navigate the globentrying to find a pattern to break the moldnwith a family to feedntheres nowhere we wont gonnbut what if were caughtnthey say I'm a snitchnshot at the check pointnfound with his throat slitnntheres spray paint on the teleprompternanchorman screams that hes seen a monstern[mayday]ntheres bloodstains on his shirtn[mayday]nthey say that hes gone berserknnsometimesnwhen I wanna shut out this worldnwanna rip up this pagenwanna pour out this heartnwanna get up on this stagenand my lips become percussionnand my fists become the ragenand I pound on this tablentil it gives me something to saynthen I think about things that Ive seennright in front of menthat I dont wanna believengimme one of these mikesnlet me let em knownthe way that it is is not how its gonna bennot if we dont let em get ahead of usnthe present tensions no threatnits just a fence across the pathnthat were already ready to walknrock solid footstepsnletem put up obstaclesnand prove that it isnt possiblenfuck thatnwe dont give in anywayntrue liberty and freedoms at stakenpeace will never become passnlive my life until my last daynnit was half-past eight in the bat cavenwhen the cracks in the plaster collapsednand gave way to gaps in the pavementnmayday maydaynput it on blastnfor the passengers and messengersncause this is a disasternwhere the fuck are the rescue workersnnot farnoff pissing on a cop carnin the hall with a poptartnsipping liquor in the rockbarneveryone climb to the frontlinenlunchtimes cancellednall hands on deck to pull survivors from the landfillnonlookers passers-by brush of your shouldersnshake off that rubblenbreak free from your standstillnnsigns of a better worldncauses we understandnfailures we expected to occurnand bring redemption for our sinsnsafety from the crowdsnin the shadows on the runnwe write our own cider housenrules to keep alivenrituals that prove their worthnsearch for systems we can trustnrhythms we can lock intonnthis is madness salvage teamsncan't bandagenhope when its damagednor broken compassionnnot enough rope in the van whennworld is collapsingnour mode of actionnbroadcast through the glassnall we can managendonate with the plasticnscraps from the saladnhoping to balancenemotions invalidatednand staged on 4:3 aspectsnjust ballast for sadnessnlives shattered are standardnfare for cameras and channelsnstare no abracabrasnnno faster answers nor mantras for disastersnremastered and plasterednwe got it all backwardsndo you know the faction your backingnits another man downnanother mother gonenchild drownednanother silenced songnsolitude nanother kind of strongnI miss younanother strung along nmissing in actionnanother page is blackend burned nturned to ashes to ashesndust off the flags and the caskets nnwe will never find another youndespite the life of love we knew nthese lightning times are trouble whoncant count the strikes that punished throughnthe bonds we thought would never breaknand never will and never change and never fadenbut there is the rage nof losing you to their mistakesnnin between the linesnsigns of a the next movementnrefuge from the crowd noutside of the lawncauses we understandnhands that trace ninstructions for descendants in the nshadows on the runnunderneath the veilnfailures we expected to noccur and bring redemption for our sins nin between the lines