Hail a new era
The gods are dead
Replaced by the empirical
With all its fallacies
Mother of pearl spoons
Feed silver tongues
Fortunes to be made
When lies can be proven true
Buzzwords and slick slogans
Obfuscation to prevent ratiocination
Those that command the bullhorn
Command the truth of the crowd
Amour propre abounds
When heroes are declared
Yet they are just prisoners
In the same prison as you
Swallow your savior
Placebos as opiates
Masses often bleat
Willing to be shorn again
When you are sloughed so easily
By the construct of your worship
You were never free
You never owned yourself
Paradox 