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A recorded reading of “Neon Prophets”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Grey skies crack like tired bones, Silicon priests on counterfeit thrones. Algorithms hum a lullaby, While oceans burn and rivers dry. But here we stand, soaked to the skin, Laughing loud where the flood begins. We're running blind through the acid rain, Holding tight to the hope we feign. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. Ash clouds bloom where towers fell, History loops in a broken shell. Kings in shadows, ghosts in suits, Selling freedom in three-piece boots. But we still breathe, we still create, In the margins where they estimate. A spark, a word, a fleeting glance, A crack in glass gives light a chance. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. Thunder speaks in static tongues, Lightning writes where truth is hung. Hold me close, keep me warm, Through the endless, endless storm. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. So laugh with me in the hurricane, Let the flood cleanse all the pain. We'll write our names on shattered stone, Through the flood, we’re not alone.
Lyrics
Grey skies crack like tired bones, Silicon priests on counterfeit thrones. Algorithms hum a lullaby, While oceans burn and rivers dry. But here we stand, soaked to the skin, Laughing loud where the flood begins. We're running blind through the acid rain, Holding tight to the hope we feign. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. Ash clouds bloom where towers fell, History loops in a broken shell. Kings in shadows, ghosts in suits, Selling freedom in three-piece boots. But we still breathe, we still create, In the margins where they estimate. A spark, a word, a fleeting glance, A crack in glass gives light a chance. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. Thunder speaks in static tongues, Lightning writes where truth is hung. Hold me close, keep me warm, Through the endless, endless storm. Can you feel it rise? Neon prophets and electric lies. We rage, we dance, we fight, we mourn— Through the flood, through the storm. So laugh with me in the hurricane, Let the flood cleanse all the pain. We'll write our names on shattered stone, Through the flood, we’re not alone.
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