Echoes in the Screen

Lyrics

The Conspiracy and the Screen The news is a song that no one sings, an echo rolling through the cash-stained halls, “Wake up,” it chimes, with a wink and a nod, while outside, the world sticks to the script, an assembly line of facts rhymed in shaky tones, polyester truths sewn in a factory of minds. “The fabric is frayed,” a voice whispers low, “find a seam to unravel,” but the spool rolls tight. “I know it happened,” they yell through the glass, “'cause I saw it on TV!” as if sincerity lives in pixels and noise, a carnival ride spinning between mild disbelief and the bright lights of flair. And I nod, recalling that time the moonwalk was performed on a stage under hot studio lights. Don’t mention the curtain, this stage made of whisper— each layer a veil, crafted, rehearsed, and deftly pulled. So we dive, take the plunge, navigate the currents, while the currents reshape the boat we’re riding in, instructions lost, a paper map, a prop with arrows pointing to the truth we’ve forsaken. Sometimes life feels like the magician’s trick, the sleight of hand is sharp as a pie in the face, and we laugh in the freeze-frame of that ironic moment when we learn all great events are just party tricks in mirrors.