Identikit

Sentry opens like we're breaking yellow tape at the scene.
 Something criminal,
 beyond obscene.
 Caught just a glimpse with all the rubberneckers rocketing past.
 Perpetrators all refugees.
 It is archival crime.
 Queued for the fire this time,
 and push the pace to race against all the faces in this identikit.
 We're frozen listening to the sun,
 waiting for new kinds of light to come.
 So little heat from whatever we set ablaze.
 Burning so bright 'cause all the kids need effigies.
 The time has long since passed to stop,
 just drop this role.
 Self-immolation: only heightening a certain relief,
 and I was never even warmed by the glow.
 It is archival crime.
 Try on all ears and all eyes,
 and push the pace to race against all the faces in this identikit.
 We're frozen listening to the sun,
 waiting for new kinds of light to come.
 So little heat from whatever we set ablaze.
 Burn through the features and never see the face.
 Consumed by the known.
 Escape routes are closed.
 Nowhere to go,
 but we still run.
 Snap to fit,
 to this identikit.
 Snap to fit.