They don’t talk, they load
and fire | every headline’s just a lit fuse wire | truth got carved into party shapes |
and facts don’t matter once hate escapes | the dinner table’s full of knives | not plates,
not food, just sharpened sides | grandma’s blocked, the kids got tagged |
and no one knows who fucking lied | | Chorus | Split red, split blue,
no middle left | just flags on graves and blame for theft | they scream “freedom”
while they burn the books | and call it peace with the dirtiest looks | | One wears boots,
one waves a sign | both convinced the other crossed the line | no talk of jobs,
no talk of rent | just screaming matches through a screen’s constant | every feed’s a war in code | with memes
and slurs and minds corrode | they sell you sides like shoes and soap |
then tax your blood and steal your vote | | Chorus | Split red, split blue,
no middle left | just flags on graves and blame for theft | they scream “freedom”
while they burn the books |
and call it peace with the dirtiest looks | | Bridge | You’re not winning,
you’re just sold | screaming louder doesn’t make it bold | they count your rage by clicks
and views | while signing deals to make sure you lose | | Chorus | Split red,
split blue, no middle left | we’re gutting truth
while they cash the checks | left to rot in our own divide |
while they toast behind doors on both damn sides | |
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