Letras
The lighting is soft, the angles are pure
They're selling the sickness and selling the cure
They speak of the morals, they speak of the grace
With a perfectly tailored, compassionate face
The teleprompter scrolls with a tier-jerking plea
A masterclass acting of fake empathy
They tell us they love us, they feel all the pain
While watching us drown from their yachts in the rain
The cameras turn off and the makeup comes down
The sneer takes the place of the sorrowful frown
They wash off the virtue, they wipe off the grease
And laugh at the flock as they're shearing the fleece
Oh, lovely the mask, but the face is a wreck!
With a heavy weight contradiction around their own neck
They claim they are saints, walking under the steeple
But under the paint... they're just ugly fucking people!
(Ugly people... so fucking ugly...)
(Just ugly people...)
They detest the very crowd that they claim to defend
Just the teeth of the monster... in the smile of a friend
They gather at galas, in velvet and lace
A private collection of the "superior" race
They toast to the climate, they toast to the poor
Then order the bouncers to lock up the door
They look at the voters like dirt on their shoes
A necessary evil to gather the dues
A boardroom of angels with rot in the core
Who've never set foot on the actual floor
The cameras turn off and the makeup comes down
The sneer takes the place of the sorrowful frown
They wash off the virtue, they wipe off the grease
And laugh at the flock as they're shearing the fleece
Oh, lovely the mask, but the face is a wreck!
With a heavy weight contradiction around their own neck
They claim they are saints, guiding the sheeple
But under the paint... they're just ugly fucking people!
(Ugly people...)
(Ugly people...)
(Ugly people... so fucking ugly...)
They hate the crowds that help them make waves
Just smiling façades, playing their bullshit games