We close our eyes, we block the sound,
The world's spinning, round and round.
Some voices scream of pain, of hate,
Of crimes untold, of twisted fate.

We turn it off, not out of spite,
But to survive just another night.
The truth's too sharp, it cuts too deep,
So we hum a tune to fall asleep.

The air is thick with cries and lies,
With flying eyes, and watching skies.
We filter out what hurts to hear,
And tuck away each heavy fear.

Not ignorant, but fragile still,
We choose our dreams, we bend our will.
For facing all, would tear us apart
The beating of our weary heart.

So on we go, with half a sight,
Chasing shadows, shooing light.
We see the world we wish to see,
And drown the rest in cold melody.

It's not the truth that keeps us near,
It's quiet songs we long to hear.
A whispered hush, a soft reply,
This is the unsung lullaby.