[Verse 1] They don't need the boot, the club, the chain— just a classroom desk and a well-worn refrain. "Neutral science," "objective facts"— a silk-lined cage dressed up as pure, plain facts. You smiled and nodded, called it common sense, never asked who built the fence. [Chorus] Hegemony's a lullaby they sing you every day— consent is not an accident, it's manufactured, made to stay. Wake up! Civil society's the battlefield, every classroom, church, and screen a shield. No jackboots needed when the mind complies— counter-hegemony or a thousand more lies. [Verse 2] Every expert's got a boss, every "truth" a patron too, organic intellectuals selling out the view. Ford's assembly line, Taylor's stopwatch stare— taylorized bodies, taylorized minds, nobody seems to care. But the prison notebooks whisper from a cell in '30s Rome: the subaltern can build a counter-hegemony of their own. [Chorus] Hegemony's a lullaby they sing you every day— consent is not an accident, it's manufactured, made to stay. Wake up! Civil society's the battlefield, every classroom, church, and screen a shield. No jackboots needed when the mind complies— counter-hegemony or a thousand more lies. [Bridge] Not the state, not the gun, not the prison bell— it's the story that they tell, the story that they sell. Rip it up. Write your own. Folklore's not a relic — it's a weapon, and it's grown. [Chorus - out] Hegemony's a lullaby — well, we're done sleeping now. Consent is not an accident — and we take it back somehow. No gods, no bosses, no borrowed common sense— just organic intellectuals tearing down the fence.
