Tolerance
dark trap with symphonic doom influences, calm cold deadpan sinister male vocals, vocal glitches effects reverb echo, slight dubstep influence, dark synth glitches, strong nu metal influences
Tolerance
dark trap with symphonic doom influences, calm cold deadpan sinister male vocals, vocal glitches effects reverb echo, slight dubstep influence, dark synth glitches, strong nu metal influences
Lyrics
intro
The keyboard warrior polishes their righteous blade.
A profile pic their banner in the crusade they’ve made.
Their filter bubble’s fortress, an algorithmic keep.
Where empathy’s a relic buried fathoms deep.
They’ll call the news they don’t like “fake” with practiced, pure disdain.
To sterilize the narrative and keep their conscience plain.
They preach a fierce unity from tribes they’ve defined as sin.
A unity that cannot bear a difference deep within.
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we won)
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we won)
They’ve got a Victorian sensibility dressed in modern thread.
A moral panic monetized, a beautifully packaged dread.
It’s “individualist socialism”—my group’s pain is the cause.
My trauma is the universal, the only valid laws.
The dehumanization of the poster on the screen.
A pixelated villain in a self-made righteous scene.
“Protect the kids” the final shield, the unimpeachable creed.
To justify the purity of ideological greed.
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we won)
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we won)
interlude - synth glitches over dark dubstep synth
The mob is not a monster, it’s a product we consume.
A dopamine of dogma from a self-constructed doom.
We trade in subtlety for shares, for likes, for vindication.
And build our own damnation through a digital civilization.
The goal was never dialogue, but conquest of the page.
To lock the opposition in a historical cage.
We’re archaeologists of sin, with shovels made of tweets.
Excavating cancelled futures for our own depleted feats.
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we’ve won)
Tolerance (we won’t)
Cancel now (report)
Empathy (is gone)
Online war (we’ve won)
The paradox is terminal.
The circuit’s closed for good.
We fought to make a kinder world…
By burning down the neighborhood.
outro
Tolerance… (we…)
Cancel… (now…)
Empathy…
…war…