Big voices on the radio

Hushed whispers on the telephone

Thin walls, open airwaves

A cold case becomes a hot zone

There’s always an agenda

Only white knights and renegades

Pushing out a prejudice

And calling it “Lemonade”

They’ll always try to buy stars above

They’ll always lie about who they love

You’ve heard the names

Fake numbers get ahead in the game so

When’s push gonna come shove?

Don’t feed me tall tales

I’ll spit ‘em right back at you

You don’t know anything that nobody didn’t tell you

So don’t blame the skeptics

For thinking out loud

In the battle of headroom, it’s a fight for the foreground

It takes a crowd to change a scene

No more readers to write the magazines

Betting we won’t recognize

That they decide when the rules don’t apply

Don’t feed me tall tales

I’ll spit ‘em right back at you

You don’t know anything that nobody didn’t tell you

So don’t blame the skeptics

For thinking out loud

In the battle of headroom, it’s a fight for the foreground

I know I’m not alone

In using a microphone to say

What I think should be said

I’m running it in the red

Don’t feed me tall tales

I’ll spit ‘em right back at you

You don’t know anything that nobody didn’t tell you