“Breaking news…”

“…state of emergency declared…”

“…the markets fell again…”

“…this is not a test.”

The air tastes like rust and regret,

Another promise we never kept.

I see the headlines bleed through the static,

Truth turns tragic, hearts turn apathetic.

We drew our lines in the sand and prayed,

But the tide came in and washed faith away.

Now every sunrise feels like a warning,

Hope just another word for mourning.

Time slips through the cracks in our hands,

We built this world on sinking sand.

It’s zero hour — and we’re wide awake,

Watching everything we made start to break.

No heroes left, no saints to save,

Just echoes calling from shallow graves.

It’s zero hour — no turning back,

We lit the fuse, now we face the blast.

And if the world burns down tonight,

At least we’ll know we were alive.

Another leader with a trembling voice,

Selling comfort dressed as choice.

Every prayer sounds like a question mark,

Every light fades into the dark.

We keep waiting for the storm to pass,

But the calm’s long gone — this is the last.

If redemption’s real, it’s running late,

And the clock keeps whispering “too late, too late.”

The smoke won’t clear — it never does,

We choke on fear and call it love.

Every promise turned to pain,

We built our shelter out of flames.

( “Out of flames… out of flames…”)

It’s zero hour — and we’re wide awake,

Watching everything we made start to break.

No heroes left, no saints to save,

Just echoes calling from shallow graves.

It’s zero hour — no turning back,

We lit the fuse, now we face the blast.

And if the world burns down tonight,

At least we’ll know…

We were alive.