ClownCar Regime

He’s waving from the golfclub like he’s driving something clean But the wheels are kinda wobbling on the ClownCar Regime Got a map he doesn’t read, got a script he can’t recall Says he built the whole machine — doesn’t know it at all There’s a whisper in his earpiece, there’s a hand upon the wheel He’s grinning for the camera, selling something that feels real Got his Blood Squib tucked behind his ear, like it’s pArt Of The Deal And the folks behind the curtain… they ain’t waving at all Oh, you thought it was a master plan A genius with a steady hand But the lines are drawn by other men And he just signs where they began It’s a ClownCar Regime Painted bright, running lean Full of ghosts in the code Selling dreams on your screen You think he’s in control But he’s not even driving the scene Just a face in the glass Of a ClownCar Regime Now they’re slicing up the data like a cake you never see Every craving, every click, every little “maybe me” Build a you that’s more predictable than you could ever be Then they sell it back as freedom with a lock and shiny key There’s a thousand tiny mirrors showing versions of your mind Little nudges dressed as choices, keeping everyone aligned Not a shove, not a shout — just a soft and steady stream Till you’re floating where they want you in the ClownCar Regime Oh, it’s gentle like a lullaby Custom-fit and qualified Every fear you try to hide Gets a price and gets applied It’s a ClownCar Regime Rolling slow, looking clean With a laugh track inside And a curated dream You think you chose the road But it’s drawn in between All the dots that they own In a ClownCar Regime No boots on the ground, no need for the shout Just a feed that keeps turning your doubt inside out No walls, no chains, no visible lines Just a pattern that quietly edits your mind Micro moments, stitched tight Every shadow, every light All your “maybes” compiled Into something they write He forgets what he said… Blood squib behind his ear… It’s a ClownCar Regime Overflowing the scene Every seat’s got a voice But they’re saying the same thing You think it’s absurd You think it’s extreme But you’re riding along In a ClownCar Regime