The disconnect Is welling up, And good intentions are not enough Your words are weary, Their hearts are strained, And idle vows find the deepest pains I’m sick, I’m tired Of hollow hope Of promises, empty, Your way with words, They’re feeding back inside my head, Oh, the things I could say that won’t change a thing I am not the same I won’t feed on fame You’re one of a thousand voices, In my head that all just sound the same If mine never made a difference, It won’t make the meaning change You’re one of a thousand voices, In my head that all just sound the same If I will make a change, It’s by my words and not my name I’m tired, I’m sick Of misfit beggars With able tongues and easy outs I hear you clearer than you hear yourself Bite down on your blindness, and spit it out I won’t sink into the sea of grey, I won’t melt into the choir of angels I won’t sink into the sea of grey, A violence of colour I won’t melt into the choir of angels, I’ll step up and scream it I am dissonant!