A Painted Utopia

In a world where what’s true never happened at all
And conspiracy theories were the only facts told

Pages of words all scribbled in books
Defining our lives, making us hooked
We memorise it, recite it, and march in a line
Just so that we’d ignore all the political crime

These sentences
These paragraphs
They’re set like a road
To lead us to one destination, they’d hope

To clone us
To feed us
A slither of lies
To mask our real history in one fake disguise

But where are the books that validate these thoughts?
Well they’re burnt and they’re shamed
Along with the soul
That wrote them, that exposed the authentic nature
That would only bring down the hierarchy of the maker

So instead, we’re brainwashed into a psychiatric state
Where our ideas aren’t accepted unless they acquaint
Fibs and edits that snatch our identity
And morph us into one overflowing army of understanding

And what must we do to prevent this from being true?
Well, it’s already happening
All in front of you