pop
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You're slipping away
Your mind it is almost gone
Eyes clouded by confusion
Then you sing a song
your eyes brighten once more
The moments seem to be passing by your minds door
Once strong and leaned on,
Hi, my name will remain anonymous for the simple fact it's my heart
speaking not my name or who I am.
Lorde, I've never been a die-hard fan but I am absolutely a fan, especially
of your latest album Melodrama.
Pop, the leader of the age,
Confined in today's mainstream cage,
Who's designed to give what the masses want
While every station encourages her flaunt.
Rock, the rebel, born of rage,
The sweeping sounds cascade out of the stage
Bouncing around the room,
Mixing with the cushioned chairs
And the old-people smell.
The brass blasts out a baleful melody
Don't you realize what you're doing?
This pot of disaster you're brewing?
We make scientific advances with new toxins
and decided to proceed commercial use without caution.
People don’t have balls.
They’ve got phones
that say you’re a Rock God
They’ve got TVs
the size of stadiums
They’ve got music
plugged in their ears 24/7
Lyrics so enchanting I tremble
Beat so good I shake it
My brain
My thoughts
Coincide
With my withdrawals
Especially if I have the withal
Or the guts
Or the truth
Or the tenacity
