[Verse 1] They wrap it clean in red and blue, soft words make it easy to chew. A polished face, a steady tone, they sell the war like it’s their own. The headlines bend, the angles shift, a body count becomes a gift. They smooth it out, they cut the edge, and turn a grave into a pledge. [Chorus] Wave your paper flags, watch the numbers climb. Every lie they print buys a little time. Wave your paper flags, keep the story straight. If it bleeds enough, they can call it fate. [Verse 2] A camera zooms, then cuts away, just long enough to make you stay. A crying child, a burning street— then back to something safe and neat. The anchors speak in careful lines, they dress it up in grand designs. No cracks, no doubt, no room to feel— just something distant, something real. [Bridge] Say it slow... Say it clean... Keep it far from what it means. Don’t let it stay, don’t let it stick— cut the truth and make it quick. [Final Chorus] Wave your paper flags, let the silence grow. If you never look, you will never know. Wave your paper flags, keep your conscience still. If the screen goes dark, someone pays the bill. [Outro] Fold it neat... Let it pass... Paper truth... Burns to ash...
