Consortium Y2k

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
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 They twist laws, crawl in marble gutters
 Playing with lives like they juggle with numbers
 Some people rob us with a fountain pen
 Even worse, we're helpless when such things happen
 Oh, they surely do it with standing and grandeur
 Criminal measures wrapped in golden words
 Should we applaud their falsity
 And their tax-free philanthropy?
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 Yes, I will be politically incorrect
 Plunge my fingers deep in the unscarred wounds
 Medias can spread their praises, don't give a damn
 I won't be a facelift to the gruesome minds
 What's the gist of this joke?
 We're force-fed with illusions
 Mesmerized mass, stuck in a rut, caught in a web, paralysed
 Broken hope, downhill slope
 Slow decay, corruption's 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
 It's a right we must all claim
 Suspicion is not dissidence
 It's a right we must all claim
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 Listen to my blazing diatribe
 My desperate anthem
 Here and now my revolt grows
 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 the blind