[Title: The Puppets of the Power - Marianne, Part 1]

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[Verse 1]
The streets of Paris were burning bright in seventeen eighty-nine,
The ordinary citizens were starving, standing in a desperate line.
They wanted bread and justice from the kings who lived in pride,
Unaware of the hidden ledger books where the global bankers hide.
Out of the smoke and chaos, a new illusion was designed,
A painted goddess on the wall to capture the collective mind.
They called her Marianne, the manufactured hero of the square,
To make the people march into their centralized, electronic snare!

[Verse 2]
They drew her with the classical gown, a banner in her fist,
To lead the angry working youth through the revolutionary mist.
She wore the red Phrygian cap, the ancient symbol of the slave,
To make the French infantry feel powerful, beautiful, and brave.
But behind the closed oak doors, the unsworn officers would meet,
To draft the new taxation grid and lock the public street.
She knew her role was theater, a billboard for their state,
To turn the cry of freedom into a weapon of collective hate.

[Verse 3]
They put her face on every stamp, on every coin and folder wall,
To register the sovereign souls beneath the shadow of the hall.
No automated signature could feel the quiet, rising strain,
Of how the machine used her beauty just to camouflage the chain.
She stood as the protector while they built their grand administrative cage,
Locking the living children of God inside a cold, official page.
But the layout of their joint venture is burning in the sun,
As the independent spirits see how the puppet show was run!

[Chorus]
The puppet theater is truly closing now,
the curtain falls and they stand exposed,
No more strings and no more crowns,
We watch with our Hands raised high,
And see them standing in the full light...
And they never acted like that again??
and they never acted like that again.??

Born in Freedom,
And in Freedom,
we will live on ..

[Outro]
The statues made of stone will crack, the copper turns to rust,
The manufactured republics will always crumble into dust.
My body is a temple, pure from the very start,
And no wooden master commands this living heart.
Born in Freedom,
And in Freedom,
we will live on ..

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[Title: The Puppets of the Power - Marianne, Part 1] [Verse 1] The streets of Paris were burning bright in seventeen eighty-nine, The ordinary citizens were starving, standing in a desperate line. They wanted bread and justice from the kings who lived in pride, Unaware of the hidden ledger books where the global bankers hide. Out of the smoke and chaos, a new illusion was designed, A painted goddess on the wall to capture the collective mind. They called her Marianne, the manufactured hero of the square, To make the people march into their centralized, electronic snare! [Verse 2] They drew her with the classical gown, a banner in her fist, To lead the angry working youth through the revolutionary mist. She wore the red Phrygian cap, the ancient symbol of the slave, To make the French infantry feel powerful, beautiful, and brave. But behind the closed oak doors, the unsworn officers would meet, To draft the new taxation grid and lock the public street. She knew her role was theater, a billboard for their state, To turn the cry of freedom into a weapon of collective hate. [Verse 3] They put her face on every stamp, on every coin and folder wall, To register the sovereign souls beneath the shadow of the hall. No automated signature could feel the quiet, rising strain, Of how the machine used her beauty just to camouflage the chain. She stood as the protector while they built their grand administrative cage, Locking the living children of God inside a cold, official page. But the layout of their joint venture is burning in the sun, As the independent spirits see how the puppet show was run! [Chorus] The puppet theater is truly closing now, the curtain falls and they stand exposed, No more strings and no more crowns, We watch with our Hands raised high, And see them standing in the full light... And they never acted like that again?? and they never acted like that again.?? Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on .. [Outro] The statues made of stone will crack, the copper turns to rust, The manufactured republics will always crumble into dust. My body is a temple, pure from the very start, And no wooden master commands this living heart. Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on ..

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