White Noise, White Lies. You sell it, they buy it. Old rules still apply - I blink and I die. You'd do my thinking if I let you, so I stay awake more than I can afford to. You got it, I need it.
Can't live without it. White noise, white lies. You thrive as they die. A pound of flesh (no more/no less) is more than I have left.
If lies and schemes were hopes and dreams you'd bleed me to death, and so I got myself a plan, complete with secret doors. Got myself a system, so I don't need yours.