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So you think that you know me |
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Just like those below me |
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And you think that your wise |
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With those big, wide open eyes |
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So you won't play along, no |
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You say that it's wrong, oh |
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And you're seeing right through me |
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And you dare to accuse me |
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So you no longer love me |
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And you think your above me |
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Yet you run when your able |
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To fetch scrap from my table |
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So you've got me confounded |
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But I've got you surrounded |
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Where, where indeed |
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Will you turn when you're in need? |
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If I'm a lie, and maybe it's true |
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Still it is I that created you |
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And when you die, I'd have you believe |
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That even your ghost is shackled to me |
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As are those who bear your memory |
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Within you live my manufactured dreams |
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Soon we'll be repackaging your quaint rebellious schemes |
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Within this august engine's power |
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To vindicate or to devour |
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As armies march and temples tower |
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Our golden glory shines before before you |
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Our golden road opens for you |
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Leave all your troubles far behind you |
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Enter the light, though it blinds you |
