Nosebleed Section Lyrics

Standing at a distance

Collecting measured, empty fiction.

Syndicated day-time faces

Spin the world into their favor.



(And there’s dead air on the airwaves)



The news at six, a foolish fix

A comfort from the working shift

The vehicle to rubberneck

At the cars crashed miles away



We gawk, we tread,

We count the number dead.

Commercials for the coming war—

Watch the ratings soar



This is what I strain to see

Standing at a distance.