Lyrics

The Puppeteer's Illusion

In the halls where shadows flit and loom,
They weave a tale both somber and bright,
With every broadcast, they shape the room,
Controlling us through morning to night.

A tragedy spun, a nation's pride,
We watched, aghast, as towers fell,
With every word, the truth they hide,
A masterstroke from shadows' dwell.

The screens replay a scripted scene,
Of planes that crash and buildings blaze,
Yet behind the veil, a different dream,
A clever trick to fuel the craze.

In whispers soft, the doubters speak,
Their theories twist in tangled threads,
The puppeteers control the weak,
With crafted lies that fill our heads.

Both sides of tales they deftly steer,
Official truths and whispers dark,
In confusion's fog, they plant their fear,
To keep the masses in their arc.

The towers fell, or so it seemed,
Yet nothing but a ghostly show,
With crafted scenes and stories dreamed,
They led us where they willed to go.

No lives were lost, no heroes died,
A demolition in the night,
With CGI and endless lies,
They conjured up a false delight.

A wild goose chase through mirrored halls,
Each twist and turn, another ruse,
The truth, a prisoner in their thralls,
Controlled by those who shape the news.

In silence now, we watch the screen,
Aware, but helpless in their grip,
Their narrative, both smooth and keen,
Forever tight within their script.