THE NEWS

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THE NEWS lyrics

Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.

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Intro

Static flickers, city glows, Under neon scrolls of highs and lows, Silhouettes of headlines crowd the dawn, Truth diluted, but the show goes on. Glass-eyed anchors, perfect smiles, While chaos brews across the miles, And she says "bring a coat, might rain by ten," So I step outside and breathe again.

Verse 1

Twenty years back, it was black and white, Now it’s filters, flash, algorithm bite. Screens scroll faster than truth can crawl, Spin cycle loopin' through rise and fall. Left-wing feathers, right-wing claws, Each peckin' their truth into tribal laws. International, wars and peace, National, debates that never cease. Used to trust it when it aired at nine, Now it's clickbait dressed in headline shine.

Chorus

I don’t want the news, just the weather girl’s grin, Tells me it’s sunny while the world caves in. Spin me up, then drop me down, Truth’s just echoes in a crowded town. Left, right, center, where’s the line? Scrollin’ past balance for views and time. No names, no blame, but the shift is clear, The news ain’t the truth, it’s what we wanna hear.

Verse 2

Center’s thinning like ice on spring, Voices boxed in echo-chamber rings. Politics painted on every screen, Used to be facts, now it’s meme machines. Used to wait for the evening brief, Now your feed decides what you believe. Morning buzz with coffee steam, Forecast light, underneath, a scream. They weaponize the narrative weave, Wrap it ‘round stories we wanna believe.

Bridge

No villains here, just broken trust, Truth corroded into bias dust. Once an oath to just report, Now a battleground in a shouting court. Yet there’s grace in rare debate, Where both sides sit and contemplate. Like unicorns behind the desk, They give respect, earn it back, no less.

Chorus

I don’t want the news, just the weather girl’s smile, Predicting rain, I’ll walk a while. Up it goes, then down it breaks, Truth now bends in high-stakes takes. Far-left spin, far-right grip, But facts ain't found in a power trip. If it’s all performative hues, Then don’t call it facts, just call it "the news."

Outro

So here's to those still trying to see, Through static fog and bias debris. And to the ones who dare to bring, Both sides in, let balance sing. But 'til then, I’ll take my cue, From cloud reports and morning dew. Truth ain't dead, just dressed up strange, In a world where the headlines rearrange.

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