Those can't be the Northern Lights
Mendax my friend this is Guantanamo
But don't throw your visions away so easily on account of me
I've already heard my funeral song
Found a kind of truth inside a child-proof container
You lose the urge to fight when nothing comes a surprise
The reptilian part of brain can't take all of the blame
This water-boarding is torture as far as I can tell
The plebeians are in mourning
There's something wrong
Someone released the hounds
On the hallowed grounds of the fourth estate
But nobody seemed to notice while they chewed right down to the bone
Then they went and smeared your name all over
Found some peace of mind inside a integrated circuit
They knew what you might find but still it took them by surprise
But their pituitary gland still has the upper hand
There drone attacks are still murder as far as I can tell
The pundits all talk in circle
This is not what we're about
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