(Intro) [Instrumental: A heavy, funky bass line starts alone. Drums slam in with a tight, head-nod groove. Guitars fade in with a dissonant, sliding riff. A short DJ scratch.] [Vocal: Whisper, menacing] You sit up high… But we cut from below. (Verse 1) [Vocal: Aggressive rap, rhythmic] In your towers made of glass, far above the dirt, You move your little pieces, never taste the hurt. With pens and secret meetings, signatures and schemes, You turn our daily lives into your numbers and your dreams. Champagne in your fingers, blood on your reports, You gamble with our futures in your echoing resorts. A line on a ledger, a war in disguise, You never see the coffins, never hear the cries. (Pre-Chorus) [Vocal: Building intensity, more melodic but still hard] You pull the strings, we’re forced to dance, Your profit built on our mischance. But your strings are frayed, they’re getting thin, Can’t you hear the cracking from within? (Chorus) [Vocal: Shouted, anthemic, with big chords and gang shouts behind key words] Puppet masters, hiding in your halls, Cold-blooded gods behind your golden walls! You play at heaven, but you’re just thieves, You steal our freedom, pull it from our sleeves! Come down from your thrones, look us in the eyes, Before we tear the ground from under all your lies! PUPPET MASTERS – your time runs out! (Verse 2) [Vocal: Rap, even more biting] Davos, boardrooms, backroom deals and more, You plan the “great resets” behind a velvet door. Digital cages, credits, scores and chains, You call it “progress”, but I see the stains. You bet on compliance, on fear and on need, On hunger and crisis, on panic you feed. We’re not your cattle, not your plastic stock, We are the fault line underneath your rock. (Pre-Chorus) [Vocal: Building again] You pull the strings, we’re forced to dance, Your profit built on our mischance. But your strings are frayed, they’re getting thin, Can’t you hear the cracking from within? (Chorus) [Vocal: Shouted, powerful] Puppet masters, hiding in your halls, Cold-blooded gods behind your golden walls! You play at heaven, but you’re just thieves, You steal our freedom, pull it from our sleeves! Come down from your thrones, look us in the eyes, Before we tear the ground from under all your lies! PUPPET MASTERS! (Bridge) [Instrumental: Beat drops to drums + bass, guitars chug quietly. Whispered voices: “Great Reset”, “New normal”, “Agenda”.] [Vocal: Spoken, slow, then rising to a roar] You think we’re sleeping. You think we’re weak. You think we’ll never see the game you speak. But every move you make, every careful plan… WE’RE WRITING IT DOWN. WE’RE TAKING IT BACK. (Guitar Solo) [Instrumental: Wah-heavy, aggressive solo over the main riff, full of bends and squeals.] (Chorus – Final) [Vocal: Maximum power, layered shouts] Puppet masters – COME DOWN! COME DOWN! YOUR TIME RUNS OUT! Tick tock, tick tock… (Outro) [Instrumental: Riff repeats, then cuts off on a dissonant chord. A final DJ scratch, then silence.] [Vocal: Dry, spoken, cold] Checkmate.
