Dead To Me - Little Brother lyrics

Four words painted on my wall Telling me that fear created this all From the police to the priests and the project yards They're calling out asking me to change They're telling me to be so afraid My little brother is getting into trouble He's so overwhelmed with the world sometimes Cathode rays to entertain the good wage slaves Salvation in the checkout lines It feeds us to our own demise We're ordinary, aimless, and awful Or predatory, shameless, but thoughtful With so much air in the war we breathe We're addicted to the violence that we pa** to our seeds There I go fighting the wrong wars They're showing me how deserts can storm So many sand dusted letters that they send back home You can carry things or push them away You feel so light, but you still got the weight My little brother is still getting into trouble He's still overwhelmed with the world sometimes There's only one rule: That there are no rules What's with the air in this war we breathe?