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emergency broadcast syndrome - every time i die lyrics

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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 embarr-ssment

hiss like the d-mned

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
(i wish we’d all just stop talking at once)
scrambled phantom

spitting and cursing from the scr-pheap we were on
you should have lost your cool
you should have lost your cool

- every time i die lyrics

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