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Postcards from Hell

I woke up to bad news, that's common these days. We're falling apart in uncountable ways. There's an industry just to tell me who to hate. And they warn me to hurry: it's almost too late.
I'm ravaged, and damaged, and battered, that's plain. Influencers manage the thoughts in my brain. But my heart never understood culture and war. A heart's meant to love, and that's all that it's for.
I can't empathize, wouldn't know where to start. I don't care to fathom the hole in your heart. But your mind and your method are perfectly clear: You send postcards from Hell that say, “Wish you were here.”
When you've rounded up all of the people you fear And silenced the voices you don't want to hear, Will you wallow in pride for an ignorant land, Now that you've crushed all you don't understand?
I don't like to be disrespectful or crass, But it's high time you took your head out of your ass. The course you pursue has been taken before. Nobody wins when our world turns to war.
I can't empathize, wouldn't know where to start. I don't care to fathom the hole in your heart. But your mind and your method are perfectly clear: You send postcards from Hell that say, “Wish you were here.”
The cost of belonging has always been high. Followers fade in the blink of an eye. The price of divergence is deeper, and wide: Lines never crossed when you're on the wrong side.
Have you noticed the nightfall and reckoned its tolls, Clouding our eyes and confounding our souls? Shadows can't drive shadows out of the dark. Love is the light and each life is a spark.
I can't empathize, wouldn't know where to start. I don't care to fathom the hole in your heart. But your mind and your method are perfectly clear: You send postcards from Hell that say, “Wish you were here.”