They carved their names on the breath of the living… But it ain’t over till we choke on the last one… They sell the rain, Tax the roots, Patent the seed, And silence the truth. The wind? Trapped in turbines. The sky? A screen by design. They bleach the stream, sterilize the land, The forest signs a contract, bound by hand. Every drop, every sprout, every strand, Stamped, sealed, and under demand. The air we breathe? Metered. The ground we walk? Seized. Even the sunlight we catch Is owned by thieves in tailored sleeves. They want it all — your breath, your soul, your flame! Chain your mind, smile wide, feed your blame! And when you scream? They stream it live! You’re not free — you’re branded, just trying to survive! That eye in your pocket? Knows your beat. Your thoughts? For sale. You clicked — you’re beat. Even your “no” is mined for gain, You’re the product, the lab rat, the chain. Thumb-trained flesh, remote-controlled, Every choice nudged, every doubt sold. Freedom? A sticker. A glossy mirage, You feel like you choose — but they write the charge. Go green? Buy clean? Their scheme. Same sharks poisoning the stream. While you vote, scroll, pray, and shop, They buy the planet, and you don’t stop. They want it all — your grief, your cry, your pride! They shape your heart, and call it “choice” inside! And when you strike? It’s their war you’re in! You ain’t the guilty — but they’ll paint you with the sin! They’ll plant the bombs inside your blood, Then charge you with loving the fuse. They’ll forge your rage, your steps, your gut, And say: “You chose this path. You lose.” When they own even your past and name, They’ll turn you to a weapon — then cast the blame! When they script your will, your breath, your flame, You’ll think it was you… (drop in volume, almost whispered) …and judge yourself with shame. They don’t want obedience… They want you to believe you’re free… While they slip the chains… Into your bloodstream.
