Propaganda Man

Each day he awakes
To face the morning commute
Coffee, bagel, white shirt, black suit
The cubical a crucible
For something like the truth
He’s a pied piper
Practicing his flute

In a world of blurred lines
He sharpens up the contrast
He’s writing the future
By rewriting the past

We can only march forward
When we know we are right
When our foes are like monsters
There’s no choice but to fight

Give him a scandal
Give him a war
And he will put it on sale
At the company store

In his world there is no room for mystery
“Relentless progress will consume all misery”
It’s all wrapped in a bow, shiny and clean
But it's just dung covered up in a high glossy sheen

He’ a tireless producer,
He’s a master craftsman
Seeing opportunities in tragedies
To advance with the game plan

Always spinning his webs
To obscure the sun’s light
To capture our imaginations
And drain them of life

Give him a scandal
Give him a war
And he will put it on sale
At the company store

He got his PHD in how to sell ****
He’s worked in corporations, churches and world governments
“The public is just a whiny little child”
Gonna give ‘em cartoons and cookies to distract for a while

He’s a TV preacher he’s a capitalist
Unless the government’s paying, then he’s a socialist
His words dripping' honey as he lies with conviction
Spinning reality from all these threads of fiction

Give him a scandal
Give him a war
And he’ll put it on sale
At the company store