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Hooded under electric eyes
Funny how you can be changed, isn't it? I never used to wear any form of headgear at all- no hats, nothing.
These days it's different. I wear hoodies, and when I'm walking through the city streets that hood stays up. That all started when I tried getting into a bar, and the bouncer refused to let my friend in because he was wearing a hat. They were polite about it, explaining that headgear makes it very difficult to identify peoples on their security cameras.
Ever since then, the hood's been up.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
Field of vision's closing in
My world's not widescreen any more
Hiding constitutes a sin
Silent weapons for a quiet war.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
You never see this coming. As a kid, I thought we'd all end up like Birds of Paradise- all decked out in colours and make-up. It would have ben a riot. Everyone's faces on display. I remember drawing pictures of people in that lumpy, kiddie-style manner, and their smiles were bigger than their torsos.
Now I'm practically in a monk's cowl. Yep- didn't see that one coming..
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
But it's like armour. Get that hood up, and keep looking down. Watch the sodium lights dancing on the wet tarmac. You're bulletproof.
A grey ghost passing.
Hear the cameras overhead.
Servos whirring as they track you.
Contact not established.
Identity not verified.
No corroboration.
Not established beyond reasonable doubt.
Get that armour on. Get that hood up. You're the grit in the wheels, the gremlin in the works. In the drive towards omniscience you're that element of doubt that keeps it human.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
Come on baby, let's go downtown.
Let's put on our masks and disappear.
Funny how you can be changed, isn't it? I never used to wear any form of headgear at all- no hats, nothing.
These days it's different. I wear hoodies, and when I'm walking through the city streets that hood stays up. That all started when I tried getting into a bar, and the bouncer refused to let my friend in because he was wearing a hat. They were polite about it, explaining that headgear makes it very difficult to identify peoples on their security cameras.
Ever since then, the hood's been up.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
Field of vision's closing in
My world's not widescreen any more
Hiding constitutes a sin
Silent weapons for a quiet war.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
You never see this coming. As a kid, I thought we'd all end up like Birds of Paradise- all decked out in colours and make-up. It would have ben a riot. Everyone's faces on display. I remember drawing pictures of people in that lumpy, kiddie-style manner, and their smiles were bigger than their torsos.
Now I'm practically in a monk's cowl. Yep- didn't see that one coming..
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
But it's like armour. Get that hood up, and keep looking down. Watch the sodium lights dancing on the wet tarmac. You're bulletproof.
A grey ghost passing.
Hear the cameras overhead.
Servos whirring as they track you.
Contact not established.
Identity not verified.
No corroboration.
Not established beyond reasonable doubt.
Get that armour on. Get that hood up. You're the grit in the wheels, the gremlin in the works. In the drive towards omniscience you're that element of doubt that keeps it human.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
C.C.T.V.
Find out what it means to me.
Come on baby, let's go downtown.
Let's put on our masks and disappear.
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