Ascension Towards the Promethean Fire

BAD BOYS RUNNING WILD

Nomore

Santa Fe Love Song (Analog Studio Recording)

Lines Become a Shape

We trusted our leaders, believed every claim,
Now they’re just rulers still playing their game.
Justice was promised, but fairness is gone,
Decisions are hollow, the lies linger on.
We’re herded like cattle in political pens,
Fed with distractions—all part of their plans.
No longer citizens, we’re pieces they move,
Pawns for their power, with nothing to prove.

Open your eyes—no one is watching!
Truth’s buried deep under layers of lying.
Systems designed to protect us are fake,
Every day we lose more than they take. (freedom)

Feed us with fiction, keep us subdued,
Shadowy figures control what is viewed.
Dreams are collected by codes in our heads,
Noise for the headline, outrage widespread.
Somewhere inside us, we stopped needing truth,
A comfortable silence for Idiocracy's rules.

Open your eyes—watch the money exchange,
Favors for friends, nothing new, nothing strange.
Guardians cry out, “We’re here to defend!”
But they’re the first ones betraying again.

Open your mind, break away from their phones,
Ask the hard questions—don’t face them alone.
Justice postponed, promises deceased,
Education recycles the lies they released.
We wait in our lines as the spirit decays,
Trust is in pieces, hope barely stays.

Even the watchers keep secrets to hide,
Truth costs too much for the masses outside.
Staring at screens as the future blurs out,
Some hold to faith, others live with doubt.

Open your eyes—in a world sound asleep,
Is this really living, or digging in deep?
If trust is abandoned and silence is loud,
Remember your worth—you’re more than a crowd.
Open your eyes—no one is watching!
Open your eyes—nobody is complaining!
Truth’s lost in shadows, deception is king.
Open your eyes, open your eyes...
Let your own thoughts take wing.

Santa Fe Love Song (Analog Studio Recording)

Broken Joints

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