Filming The Tragedy Silent Rage

Attika

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    Take a look around you
    At the celluloid newsman's comedy
    Obstruction of a world in progress
    Dying at the hands of Technology

    Will tomorrow's eyes open to see
    The thin line of truth and sanity
    The dying eyes behind the scenes obscured
    By a cardboard world of reality

    The media moshes frantically
    To deliver what the people will buy
    Inter the bones and feed them the meat
    They'll swallow it whole with no questions.

    The script is in
    Race to the scene
    Reporting the Agony

    Eyewitness,
    Camera madness
    Filming the Tragedy

    Swallow your pride
    Make up the time
    The theater curtains rise

    The audience stares
    They're part of the show
    A play in morality

    Bomb scare, make it aware
    There's nothing here to dread
    The bombs are red, the armies bled
    But your eyes only rattle your head

    Terror strikes a chord within
    The world is a great madhouse
    But rest assure, you need not worry
    It has nothing to do with you.

    Scandal is in
    Fact is a sin
    Making a strategy

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    Eyewitness,
    Camera madness
    Filming the Tragedy

    Swallow your pride
    Make up the time
    The theater curtains rise

    Look past the screen
    This is your scene
    Watch your own mortality.

    The reporters are the producers
    Directors have an empty set
    There's no acting, no lines to remember
    This one's for real

    Wrap u the story, this one's a print
    Hold the press we're coming in
    A cynical layout hiding the truth
    Absorbing the absent minded youth

    It's a fast world in a fast lane
    Live by the minute not by the day
    Stick out your arm for another fix
    As we tip our hats to the editor's kiss.

    The script is in
    Race to the scene
    Reporting the Agony

    Eyewitness,
    Camera madness
    Filming the Tragedy

    Swallow the pride
    Make up the time
    The theater curtains rise

    And the audience stares
    It's part of the show
    Programming brutality.

    When the doors were broken
    I locked it from my mind
    A cattle drive on society
    I dared not speak the plight.

    To speak one's mind among us
    To burn as heretics
    Language of a forgotten age
    Now just decadence.

    There's no one left to stop the siege
    No one to speak up against the spree
    I grit my teeth as they take them away
    Run for cover now, they're coming for me
    Too late for someone to preach the sane.

    Ridding the land of their own kind
    And replace them with people of steel
    To raise a new breed of man
    That cowers and caters to wills.

    There is no place for the weak
    They only slow the plan
    And the children of these diseased
    Will be trained to work the land.

    There's no one left to stop the siege
    No one to speak up against the spree
    I grit my teeth as they take them away
    Run for cover now, they're coming for me
    Too late for someone to preach the sane
    And no one to raise a hand for me
    I held my tongue now they hold my fate.

    There's no one left to stop the siege
    No one to speak up against the spree
    I grit my teeth as they take them away
    Run for cover now, they're coming for me
    Too late for someone to preach the sane
    And no one to make a stand for me
    I held my tongue now they hold my fate

    Behold my fate.

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