[Intro - Radio static noise, guitar feedback, slow mechanical beat] [Voice tone: Gray, journalistic, distorted microphone] Testing. Testing. Live from the frontlines of the modern dark ages. The smell of burning wax and cheap adrenaline. Watch the machinery turn. [Verse 1 - The beat accelerates. Aggressive tone, machine gun rhythm] The stage is set! The concrete floors are cold! The actors sweat! The holy water’s sold! Look at the director in the black silk robe, Pumping high-voltage fear across the globe. They fake the trauma, they loop the tape, A low-budget horror movie with no escape. It’s a franchise! A circus! A neurological trap! Feeding the masses an ancient map! Spit the Latin! Grind the teeth! Look at the wires hiding underneath! [Chorus - The beat breaks into a crushing industrial rhythm.] Shouting voice or megaphone] They call it delivery! I call it the franchise! Exorcism! It's a church charade! A high-production lie that they handmade! Exorcism! It's a church charade! Cut the power! Watch the actors fade! [Verse 2 - Minimalist but heavy beat, just bass and metal percussion] [Ironic, cynical tone, Gonzo style] I'm standing in the back. I see the technical cues.The violent shaking is just heavily marketed news.They pin down a victim, they label the pain,To protect the institution and control the brain.It’s theater for the paranoid. Hollywood in the pews.A cheap special effect to make the front-page news.No demons here. Just heavy metal gears. Grinding down human flesh for two thousand years! Grind the gears! Grind the gears! [Bridge - Industrial noise reaches its peak, maximum distortion] [Voice growing, almost panicked/furious] The lights are flashing! The smoke is fake! How many casualties does a spectacle make?! They pull the strings! The puppets dance! They trap your mind in a chemical trance! Shut up! Shut up! [Outro - The beat suddenly stops. Only the static hum of a factory remains] [Exhausted voice, whispered directly into the microphone] The curtains melt. The actors go home. Nothing but static... under the dome. Exorcism. Is a church charade. [Sound of an electrical switch turning off - Absolute silence]
