| Calculated narration falls from a tainted tongue
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| A painting stitched together woven from a thread hand-sewn
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| Draped across the backs of hungry and distracted friends of foes
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| Reality perceived is hidden in a shadow
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| Malintent is never shown
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| Fed the fodder shaped by hands unknown
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| Swallowing a fiction that’s been grown
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| They’ll distort the truth
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| Package it as proof
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| Diagram that suits
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| Tangled ink on the page illustrating the lies we believe
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| Storm clouds gather, deluge sets to task
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| Can’t be bothered, questions go unasked
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| Rally round our tables made of stone
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| Buried in the sand we feel at home
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| Contrived with fraud in mind
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| They’ve formulated life
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| They built the house we dwell inside
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| Our minds were made before we tried
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| Soak up the scenes that we are shown
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| It’s hard to break from paths so known
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| They’ll distort the truth
|
| Package it as proof
|
| Diagram that suits
|
| Tangled ink on the page illustrating the lies we believe
|
| Full collapse of truth is handed out as proof
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| A framework that suits
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| Drying ink on a page illustrating the face that deceives
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| (Peel back screens, now you found out never trust a talking head)
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| Orchestration is able to tip weight in favor of
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| (Scripted teeth scream, you need to be afraid of something)
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| Evil actions condoned in the absence of information
|
| (Peel back screens, now you found out never trust a talking head)
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| This contest is won with what’s real
|
| (Scripted teeth scream, you need to be afraid of something)
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| How can minds be made able to wade through madness surreal?
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| Madness so surreal |