TMA - Dead Behind The Feed

Welcome to the future. Where everybody’s connected and nobody can think. Where truth comes in fifteen-second clips, morality comes with a logo, and your personality is whatever the algorithm served you before breakfast. Smile for the camera. We’re all fucking dying for attention. Wake up, swipe up, dopamine dose Pick your side, pick your flag, pick the thing you hate most Everybody got a cause when the camera light glows But nobody gives a damn when the curtain gets closed Copy, paste opinions, downloaded rage Little digital soldiers in a thumbnail cage You don’t speak your mind, you just quote your page Then call yourself enlightened while you rot on stage They sell you fear They sell you pride They sell you enemies Then monetize both sides Left hand pointing Right hand stealing Everybody screaming Nobody healing And the machine keeps feeding While the population sleeps We traded independent thought For followers and streaks Tell me what to love Tell me what to hate Tell me who I’m allowed to question Before it’s too late Paint another slogan Hang another sign You can own the fucking screen But you won’t own my mind. WE’RE DEAD BEHIND THE FEED ZOMBIES ON OUR KNEES BEGGING FOR A MASTER TO TELL US WHAT TO BELIEVE We swallowed every headline Now we’re choking on the lie So take your manufactured madness FUCK OFF. GIVE US BACK OUR MINDS. Everything’s a movement Everything’s a brand Corporations preaching virtue With your money in their hands Rainbow-washed billboards Politicians taking bows Selling revolution While they milk the sacred cow Everybody’s special Everybody’s right Everybody wants a war But nobody wants to fight You disagree? You’re evil. Ask a question? You’re insane. Welcome to the circus Where the audience wears chains. We got children raised by screens Adults addicted to applause Truth murdered in the courtroom By a thousand trending causes No nuance No patience No room between the lines Just pick the fucking uniform And march until you die. Tell me what to say Tell me what to fear Change the definition Every fucking year Wave another banner Draw another line You can own the conversation BUT YOU WON’T OWN MY MIND. WE’RE DEAD BEHIND THE FEED ZOMBIES ON OUR KNEES BEGGING FOR A MASTER TO TELL US WHAT TO BELIEVE We swallowed every headline Now we’re choking on the lie So take your manufactured madness FUCK OFF. GIVE US BACK OUR MINDS. Maybe the apocalypse doesn’t come with fire. Maybe it comes quietly. A notification. A recommendation. A thousand tiny decisions made for you until one day you wake up and realize— you haven’t had an original thought in years. But I remember something. I remember silence. I remember disagreement without declaring fucking war. I remember people before profiles. Friends before factions. Humans before hashtags. So no I will not bow. CUT THE SIGNAL. BURN THE SCRIPT. KILL THE NOISE. QUESTION IT. YOUR FEED IS NOT YOUR FUCKING SOUL. YOUR SIDE IS NOT YOUR FUCKING GOD. WAKE. THE. FUCK. UP. WE’RE DEAD BEHIND THE FEED BUT WE DON’T HAVE TO BE TEAR THE WIRES FROM THE WALL AND REMEMBER HOW TO BREATHE No billionaire algorithm Gets to tell me wrong from right Take your fear Take your labels Take your never-ending fight You can keep your fake salvation You can keep your digital shrine And if you came to own my thoughts— FUCK OFF. THEY’RE MINE. The revolution won’t be trending. You won’t get a notification. There won’t be a sponsored link. It starts the moment you turn off the screen… and start thinking for yourself.