Black coffee burning
Next to a man on the news
An advertisement concerning
All their opposing views
I see a man in the window
A woman in the frame
And all the people in the town, running around
Tryna find an empty place

Am I awake

The intellectual artist
Can't seem to form a thought
The punk rock guitarist
Picks up where the art left off
She thinks it's pretty when she takes it off
But my brain gets soft, it isn't enough
She's only gonna make me cough

Am I awake

And now there's bodies burning
In towns all over the world
But the dead, white blessed, who live in the west
Are the only dead that I ever heard

Am I awake