Composed, Performed, Produced by Bob Forbes.
Lyrics
Sign on the door says “Stand in line".
Smile like a mannequin, stiffening design.
They show you the dice before making the roll.
Polite little lies, dressed up in overcoats.
Quiet now, don’t make a scene,
But doesn't silence taste bitter and mean?
Nonsense rules, burn the pages into the night.
Foolishness grows, shout it loud, as if you're right.
Is there anyone left that's level at all?
Or has the world reached a beckoning call?
They teach you to fold, to fit, to please,
While we swallow the world on our knees.
Directing the masses, so hollow and cold,
They show us the paths, they sell us the mold.
But every “must and every “should"
Is just a story someone else misunderstood.
Nonsense rules, burn the pages into the night.
Foolishness grows, shout it loud, as if you're right.
Is there anyone left that's level at all?
Or has the world reached a beckoning call?
Tear up the rulebook with your callused hands,
Write new lines about the margins of the land.
Nonsense still rules, so watch them die slow,
We can write the future, now c'mon and let it go.
Nonsense rules, burn the pages into the night.
Foolishness grows, shout it loud, as if you're right.
Is there anyone left that's level at all?
Or has the world reached a beckoning call?
Copyright 2026; Bob Forbes
