We watch the madmen sort things out Unmoved by theyr foul play and their intentions Happily going onwards with our daily shores Bound by the blindness controlled by the madness
A portrait created in your head The artist being the puppeteer Can you see the strings they pull? Rip them down cut them off Knowledge being fed through others The individual being a long gone myth Bow down to the will of few Suppressed from birth and until death
I am your voice Your thoughts of hate and lust I am your tears Feed upon the growing anger I am your choice Your individual freedom I am your fears Rip off the hand that feeds you
Without a single voice to be heard We devour their words and follow like cattle The few who dare speak are silenced Suppressed from birth and until death Stare at them pulling your strings Cutting them off without a single notice Ripping your hands off with a smile Hear the echoes of their laughter as tears are cried
Feel the growing hate inside your veins Your heart pounding with burning rage The time to strike back is so near No more manipulating minds