So you think that you know me Just like those below me And you think that your wise With those big, wide open eyes So you wont play along, no You say that its wrong, oh And youre seeing right through me And you dare to accuse me So you no longer love me And you think your above me Yet you run when your able To fetch scrap from my table So youve got me confounded But Ive got you surrounded Where, where indeed Will you turn when youre in need? If Im a lie, and maybe its true Still it is I that created you And when you die, Id have you believe That even your ghost is shackled to me As are those who bear your memory Within you live my manufactured dreams Soon well be repackaging your quaint rebellious schemes Within this august engines power To vindicate or to devour As armies march and temples tower Our golden glory shines before before you Our golden road opens for you Leave all your troubles far behind you Enter the light, though it blinds you
repackaging, think, golden, quaint, confounded