[Intro – low, steady, ceremonial] They call it policy. I call it force with better grammar. [Verse 1] It never starts with chains or guns, It starts with “for your good”. Footnotes, clauses, smiling tongues, A threat misunderstood. They say “collective”, say “must”, say “need”, Say “no alternative remains”. But every rule you didn’t choose Is violence with a name. Marble desks, official seals, Hands that never touch the cost. They write commands in passive voice So no one owns the loss. [Pre-Chorus] They hide the fist behind the pen, The order behind the tone. But tell me— what do you call a choice you’re punished for refusing? [Chorus – slow, grave] Policy is violence when consent is gone. Law is just a weapon when it’s forced on someone. Dress it up as safety, dress it up as care— If it’s not voluntary, the harm is still there. [Verse 2] They don’t need hatred, don’t need rage, Just silence and routine. Compliance trained as virtue, Resistance labeled “extreme”. They speak of order, growth, control, Of managing the whole. But you can’t manage human will Like numbers on a roll. Every mandate draws a line Between the ruler and the ruled. And every “you must” is proof That power isn’t moral—it’s assumed. [Pre-Chorus 2] You can vote, you can argue, You can beg to be heard. But force doesn’t disappear because it’s written as a word. [Chorus – variation] Policy is violence with a cleaner face. No blood on the hands— just distance and delay. They say “it’s the system”, as if that makes it right. But systems don’t absolve— they just scale the fight. [Bridge – stripped, cold clarity] If refusal carries punishment, it was never a choice. If obedience is mandatory, don’t call it a voice. This isn’t radical. It’s precise. [Break – minimal low pulse, heartbeat-style kick, breath sounds, no melody] [Final Chorus – deeper, slower] Policy is violence when exit is denied. When your body pays the price for rules you never signed. No matter how you frame it, no matter how it’s sold— Force doesn’t turn ethical just because it’s old. [Outro – calm, final] Order without consent is not order. It’s occupation.
