The flag was hung at half mast
But I couldn't remember which tragedy we were honoring today.
By the time I made it back to my desk
I never even bothered to care to ask.
Every picture on my wall
A flag of a country where I’ll never go.
Reduced to pixels on a screen
Helps me forget whatever I’ve seen.
The man dropped the mother in some fucking valley,
whether he knew it or not it changes a lot.
But not for me.
So why don’t I care?
It’s the low grade pull of the panic
running all through my body.
Scrolling past another 19 dead.
Only pause to think if I might know anybody.
I want to want to take to the streets
But I know it no longer means anything
I want to want to raise the black flag
But I’m comfortable in complacency
Every joy that I have comes at the terrible cost
Of the immense pain of someone I don’t know
Why don’t I act?
Why don’t I care?
Anybody who knows me knew someone that cared,
but knows it's growing late
I was 17 years old when words changed
When trust turned to panic
My first friend died in some desert
Now I am tattered beaten and broken
The colors don't run
But they fade.