在手机上保存，获得更好体验
词 Lyrics：熠林文化\长街听风
曲 Composed：熠林文化\奶油泡芙
【未经著作权人许可不得翻唱翻录或使用】
They type a paragraph of sweet venom and spite
Then close the laptop, they never see the daylight
Their social feed is a lineup of praises they hate
They measure their own success by all the likes they rate
But the room where they sit is a mess, undisguised
And the hours tick by with no progress inside
Each new morning a memoir of yesterday's rage
They pour out on the comments a poisonous page
The cursor blinks back like a stubborn machine
While the laundry piles up and the dishes stay green
They trade real life for a silent battle of keys
And the only thing moving? The venom they squeeze
Every keystroke is a shovel digging their own grave
They type 'amazing' on posts, but envy's what they save
They yell at the screen and they never move
While their real life keeps spinning in a loop
Acid on the keys
The comment box is on fire
And I feel the rage burning inside
But it's all just useless noise and heat
No one moves a bit
The clock on the wall keeps ticking in place
We tap, we tap, and then we all stall
While the day outside is moving along
No step made
We screenshot every flaw that we find
Then post it with a bitter laugh and a sigh
But the mirror's cracked and the frame is bent
We'd rather blame the socket than the way it's spent
Our thumbs are busy dancing on the screen glass
While the cereal bowl stays dry and quite unmoved
We comment on their posture from our own crooked chair
And we never once step out and breathe the dawn air
We measure people's worth in their likes and shares
But our bank account says we're the ones who care
And the only upgrade is the size of the screen
We do nothing but complain about our routine
The only thing we sharpen is the edge of our tongue
While the life we wanted stays in a separate room
And we shout at the feed without a fight
But the page only moves when the night does
Acid on the keys
The comment box is on fire
And my jaw gets tighter with the spite
And the minutes slowly turn to ash
No one's standing up
The screen keeps reflecting a face of stone
We scroll while our bones ache to move on
But the minutes keep leaking like a sieve
No gain made
