

Wake up.
Look closely.
They paint the walls with perfect screens (they do) Selling you the
ghost inside the machine
But Alan sees the wires,
Alan sees the thread
He reads the unsaid behind the ink of red
Alan sees right through the trap (right through) Tearing down the static
on the map
They feed the noise,
they spin the lie
But he's got focus in his eye
Ink on the paper,
screens in the hall
They build a ceiling,
call it a wall
He marks the pages,
decoding the sign
Walking straight past their crooked line
(watch him go)
Alan sees right through the trap (right through) Tearing down the static
on the map
They feed the noise,
they spin the lie
But he's got focus in his eye
No more lies.
He sees you. (shhhhh)