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Lyrics
Shadows move, the city’s cold,
Silent prayers that go untold.
Every face, a mask of stone,
In the state — you’re never home.
Echoed steps on broken ground,
Voices lost but still resound.
Searching eyes that never rest,
In the state — you’re just a guest.
Fading lights, the sirens call,
You’re alive but feel so small.
Every truth begins to shake,
In the state — you can’t awake.
Time dissolves, the night won’t end,
Dreams collapse, they won’t defend.
You remain, a fleeting breath,
In the state — between life and death.
The idea#
The city as cold machine of masks and silent prayers. You are alive and small; every face stone; every truth shakes. “In the state” you are guest, never home—political or psychological enclosure, or both.
Sirens, faded lights, night that will not end, dreams that refuse defense. Between life and death, a fleeting breath. Dark-uplifting trance can make alienation feel kinetic rather than merely gray: still trapped, still moving.
