The keepers of the knowledge gate Demark the bounds of te debate And manufacture an illusion That we've reached our own conclusion.
Certified as safe to know What is is what they say is so, Thus, they conquer and confuse And manipulate the news.
Whoever wants to be the keeper Climbs a slope that's ever steeper. He who will not sell his soul Needn't bother with the role. Still the lines are long enough Of those who think they have the stuff To sell a fable as a fact And keep their consciences intact. We see their faces every night Telling us that black is white. The paper at the breakfast table Ought to have a warning label:
"Caution, what you read within Is doctored with a careful spin. Lift your eyes and call a halt If you lack a grain of salt."
I don't know how it got this way. And it gives me pain to say We're not a land of liberty, If it's truth that makes us free.
David Martin