Letras
They called him the Emperor of Empty Dreams,
Gold-leaf crown and a mouth full of schemes.
Every room he walked in, mirrors would bow-
But shadows kept the secrets he won't face now.
A whisper here, a shutter there,
Truth dissolves into the air.
Power paints its own façade-
But cracks still show beneath the gloss.
Bubba, where are the pictures?
Where did they go?
Locked in a tower where no one's supposed
To look behind curtains, to question the show-
But everyone's asking what everyone knows.
He built a kingdom out of smoke and spin,
Paraded sins like medals pinned.
The louder he shouted, the smaller he grew-
A titan collapsing under the weight of truth.
They scrub the archives clean at night,
Rewrite wrongs until they sound right.
But every lie leaves fingerprints-
You can't erase the evidence.
Bubba, where are the pictures?
Where did they hide?
Buried in vaults where the gatekeepers lie.
Truth isn't silent, it claws from inside-
And sooner or later, the lens won't comply.
Cover your tracks, rewrite the past-
But shadows snap back twice as fast.
Erase the reel, corrupt the file-
But truth survives in exile.
Run from the story-
It's running to you.
Hide all the footage-
It breaks through the blue.
The image is coming,
The mask falling through-
A spotlight revealing
The things we outgrew.
Bubba, where are the pictures?
Show us the truth.
The world keeps on turning with nothing to lose.
No more illusions, no more excuse-
The lens is awake and it's coming for you