Rorschach

Eyes on the screen
We have all the information now, but what does it mean?
[Shannon] All this progress; hope is with us; stretching above
Reason’s a tease
Drank up all that hemlock, here I am just reading the leaves
[Shannon] There's no followers; there's no compass; a dozen clouds
And left wondering: what happened to the life we lost, that got lost in the living?
And all this fiction makes me nervous
Turns out it was blood spilled on the canvas we admired just like some Rorschach painting
The film in your brain—it edits to remember, keeps the figure in the frame
It's a sacrificial violence, all those passed over in silence then cast out with the blame
And I’m trying to stay sane—meanwhile, the river of forgetfulness it starts spilling the banks
Caught in a lie and instead of fessing up, we'd sooner just go out of our heads
I’ve been holding up my end when I should have doubled-down on my own atom bomb shelter instead
Oh, oh, how you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on to every thing?
Oh, oh, how you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on to your memory?
Oh, oh, how you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on?
How you gonna hold on when you know that you can’t?