We’re gonna tell you what it is.

We’re gonna tell you who you are.

We’re gonna tell you where you’re from.

We’re gonna know just what you’ve done.

We’ll tell you we’re all made of stars.

We’ll tell you we aren’t here at all.

We’re gonna tell you we’re impressed,

just lift up your dress

to show you’re worthy of the call.


Another bible’s getting made,

it’s got all the games we’ve played;

all the tricks of the trade.

We’re gonna totally get laid.


Don’t worry your pretty little head

about what we’re doing over here.

You’re not even really there,

just a circle in a square.

Things are not as they appear.


We’ve got you watching

for something that is nothing

at the evolution sideshow cabaret.

Are you not so entertained,

you’ll let us get away

with making you a slave?


You’re so smart and you’re so pretty,

we’re gonna let you join the show

and when you arrive,

already running out of time,

the stage is set to blow.


We’re gonna make it real easy

for you to get noticed;

here’s a camera and a dream,

low sense of self esteem

and both are stuck on autofocus.


We’re gonna lift you real high

into a simulated sky

and promise we won’t let you down,

but when you hit the ground,

you’re gonna see who’s laughing now.

We’re gonna leave you in distress,

go ahead and catch your breath.

You’re gonna need it

where we’ve got you going next.


If you’re lucky,

we’ll put you on display

at the binary freakshow parade.

We’ve all got our eyes on you,

you’re gonna know it’s true,

as soon as we tell you to.


We turn your eyes back on yourself,

so you can’t see us.


HG – 2016


Leave a Reply