[intro]

[verse - rap]
Two faces in the mirror, but they’re not the same,
One preaches love, the other fuels the flame.
Blasphemy’s back, but the script’s been flipped,
Where gods are men, and truths are stripped.
Control my end, decide my breath,
Hand me the keys to my own death.
Equality screams while freedom bows,
A world of gods, but no one knows how.

[chorus]
In the echoes of the old and the cries of the new,
The sacred falls, what’s left to pursue?
Bound by chains, yet called to be free,
Woke gods rise, rewriting history.

[verse 2 - rap]
The lines are blurred where harm resides,
Sanctity crushed, and morals collide.
A world unmoored, drifting astray,
Where life’s worth less than what words convey.
Burning books, but not with flames,
The new religion plays twisted games.
Sacred lives fall to whispers and trends,
The spiral starts—where will it end?

[chorus]
In the echoes of the old and the cries of the new,
The sacred falls, what’s left to pursue?
Bound by chains, yet called to be free,
Woke gods rise, rewriting history.

[bridge]
[drums and bass syncopated, driving tension]
Not every choice is ours to make,
The burden of freedom—what’s at stake?
The eternal bond, the fight to hold,
In the face of shadows, be strong, be bold.

[verse 3 - rap]
We’ve lost the ties to what’s beyond,
Life reduced to a fleeting bond.
Sacrifice mocked, struggle replaced,
With hollow gods in a soulless space.
Do we kneel to harm, embrace despair?
Or rise again, find meaning there?
Blasphemy laws or the end we choose,
In this broken mirror, we all could lose.

[chorus]
In the echoes of the old and the cries of the new,
The sacred falls, what’s left to pursue?
Bound by chains, yet called to be free,
Woke gods rise, rewriting history.

[outro]
A world unbound, yet tied to pain,
Woke gods rise, but the questions remain.



The Two Faces of Woke

Winnipeg composer, retired from the farm, still chasing meaning in melody. My work lives where TV cues meet YouTube soundscapes, with a few albums in between. Built in Mixcraft Pro, fuelled by late-night coffee, stubborn curiosity, and a Stoic’s sense of timing. Also writing on politics, history, and philosophy, because sound isn’t my only instrument.

The Two Faces of Woke

Wayne Mathison