A nation of millions Of lost little sheep The mass effects so many Who believe all they see The media's children The people of sleep Taught to rest in peace By the whispers of deceit
Led to believe That they're still free to decide Because the t.v. gave permission On a program on rights Fed only the candy The part that they wanna hear Slowly raped though they can only feel The tickle in their ears
"Close your eyes, release your mind."
Consider yourselves my very one desire, Consider yourselves my slaves Consider yourselves at my fingertips, In the palm of my hand, my slave." To "leave your thinking to me..."
A nation of puppets Who worship a beast
Who drinks the blood of their souls As they lay at its feet If seeing is believeing Then you can have your t.v. screen I will worship a God Who allows me to thinkTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
