Conquerors burn the chronicles, archives are erased in
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auto-da-fe
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The invaded ones lose their past and identity
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As the scribbles embellish the legend of the strong
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Slaves are doomed to kneel and stay mute
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The dead don¡¯t talk.
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Elites recreate reality for their own profit
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In the dark, cold blooded liars tangle the tracks
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Disfigure effigies and pull the strings
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Make the puppets dance a grotesque waltz
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Some truths still sleep in the shadow
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In the gulf of the unknown where no probe can go
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We must scratch the varnish to touch the rotten wood
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And break the cast to uncover the infected wounds
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Those who don¡¯t remember the past are condemned to
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repeat it
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Reality is writing in blood and tears
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Learn to perceive what¡¯s beyond the evidence
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Tear the blindfold, lift the veil
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Chase out the spies that lurk behind the wall of Shame
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We are told what to thing and who we must hate
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Force fed with sentences with no sense
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Like ¡°the land of freedom versus the evil axis!¡±
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Vain rhetoric, shallow speeches¡¦ We¡¯re sick of this
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shit
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But for sure, we¡¯ll hear it again
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As long as the media¡¯s diarrheas will be poured in our
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brains
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The question in not ¡°are you free to speak?¡±
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But ¡°can you afford to be listened to?¡±
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The Star ? Spangled Banner can be a gag, such a useful
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tool¡¦
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It¡¯s time to make a stand
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We must now understand
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That Machiavellian forces rule the world
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It¡¯s time to break the door open
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Nor more eavesdropping
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The game is over, we¡¯ll wreck the plan.
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The Dead Don't Talk
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| Blinded By Faith |
