Intro (spoken, low, controlled) They meet above the clouds to decide the fate of people they never intend to meet. No blood on their hands. Just ink. And silence. Verse 1 Private jets preaching climate restraint, champagne speeches about shared pain. They say “global”, they say “order”, they say “care”, but the bill always lands somewhere else. Clean suits, frozen smiles, policies written a thousand miles from hunger, fear, or the cost of bread, but they’ll tell you how to live instead. Pre-Chorus They’re not kings, they’re not gods, but they play both roles well. They never pay the price for the rules you’re forced to accept. Chorus Men in ties, thieves with degrees. Silent violence disguised as policy. They talk about tomorrow while they mortgage your now. No chains on your hands— they taught you to bow. Verse 2 Closed doors, curated truths, “stakeholders” deciding what you lose. “You’ll own nothing,” they smile polite, they already own the night. They don’t need guns, they engineered fear. They don’t need soldiers when compliance is sincere. Bridge (slow, cold, minimal) This wasn’t a mistake. This wasn’t incompetence. This was design. And it worked… until you remembered yourself. Chorus (variation) Men in ties, empires of ink. They sell you safety while they teach you to shrink. But there’s one thing they can’t regulate or buy: a conscious human who refuses to comply. Outro (spoken, calm, final) We don’t need their permission. We don’t need their plan. The world is not governed from Davos. It’s lived— from below, from within, from freedom.
