Subliminal propaganda, corporate theft, no conscience left
Is there something wrong in the land of the freak?
Behind the
so-called ideals, shameful and odious lies
Chromed scum, masters in disguise selling shreds of paradise
They twist laws, crawl
in marble gutters
Playing with lives like they juggle with numbers
Some people rob us with a fountain pen
Even worst: were
helpless when such things happen
Oh! They surely do it with standing and grandeur
Criminal measures wrapped in golden
words
Should we applause their falsity and their tax-free philanthropy?
Yes I wanna be politically incorrect
And plunge my
fingers deep in the unscarred wounds
Medias can spread their praises, dont give a damn
I wont pay a facelift to the gruesome
minds
Whats the gist of this joke? Were forced fed with illusions!
Mesmerized mass, stuck in a rut, caught in a web,
paralysed
Broken hope, downhill slope, slow decay, corruptions heydays
So many struggles to strangle the witnesses
Too many
sickening truths in confidential reports
So many reasons to burn the compromising proofs
So much dishonesty rightfully breeds
contempt.
Overthrown democracies, moral bankruptcies
Falsified archives, a jigsaw puzzle to analyse
Contradictory
information, a labyrinth of deforming mirrors
Suspicion is not dissidence; its a right we must all claim
Listen to my
blazing diatribe, my desperate anthem
Here and now my revolt growls
as I spew sick rhymes for a troubled world
The explosive
chronicle of an epoch of silent wrath
A tragedy tattooed in the back of a blind.