The Casket Lottery - On The Air lyrics

Turn the radio off. It's just commercials made by stars Turn down the auto-tune and reveal those wounds And scars. It's all middle fingers and s**, and who's Ego can hold the most. We just hop in a broken van and We head out to the coast Wide-eyed and wondering how we ever got here Now I'm praying for a revolution on the air Am I wasting all my time? Or am I proving them all wrong? Am I wasting all my energy on these old songs? These people aren't Even real. They need choreigraphers just to breathe. These people Aren't even real, they were raised by wolves, they think of us as sheep Wide-eyed, it's about time I got the hell out of here But still I'm praying for a revolution on the air Don't you care? There are people choking out here...it's got to stop We all need fresh air. We all need fresh air. Don't you care? There Are people being force fed bullsh** out here. Out here we all need Fresh air. We all need fresh air