| What if the internet
|
| Closed its gates at midnight
|
| We’d have to take a look
|
| At each other
|
| For the first time
|
| Would we be tempted to say nothing
|
| Or have nothing left to say
|
| Sitting awkwardly in silence
|
| Doesn’t matter anyway
|
| Cause what we lack in empathy
|
| We’ll make up with apathy
|
| What we lack in empathy
|
| We’ll make up with apathy
|
| Oh believe me I’d betray my blood
|
| With a flesh deep paper cut
|
| For a deeply cleansing flood
|
| Wash the guilt away for once
|
| I feel the urge to be reborn
|
| To forget the world we mourn
|
| Oh, this fever is like Rome
|
| Everything leads right back to it
|
| And what we lack in empathy
|
| We’ll make up with apathy
|
| What we lack in empathy
|
| We’ll make up with apathy
|
| I’ve got a bad taste in my mouth
|
| Since the internet went out
|
| Maybe I’ll write you a letter
|
| Oh I’m trying to get better
|
| Better…
|
| Better…
|
| I try to get better
|
| Better…
|
| Better…
|
| One day I’ll get better |