Emergency Broadcast Syndrome Lyrics – Every Time I Die
Singer: Every Time I Die
Title: Emergency Broadcast Syndrome
I hate this city
Reposition the phantom rigged, reflective tape
Situated like a makeshift antenna, grinning like tinfoil
We’re losing reception, we can’t pick up the game
I should be discontinued, I am a broadcasting embarrassment
Hiss like the damned
Decoding the transmitted pulse that dispatch from her lips
I am not receiving a sign that says I am still here anymore
Do you hear me? Am I coming through at all?
Is any of this making sense?
Is any of this making sense?
Is any of this making sense to you?
You’ve got a ghost on your hands
A televisual image only partially clear
Scrambled phantom
Spitting and cursing from the scrapheap we were on
You should have lost your cool
You should have lost your cool
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Lyrics Every Time I Die – Emergency Broadcast Syndrome
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