Humanity's the target in the factory of fear
The crossbeams are the cross hairs, there's no crooked lines in here
They mold you into shape to become men who make the things
They bend you til you break or become part of the machine
The game is rigged, it's in the plans
The notion that you've got a choice is just part of the scam
If you shrug and say "Why Bother?"
I'd probably say that you are wise
When there just using us a fodder to fuel their personal paradise
Some men let it take them, it consumes them all in time
Some men fight against it, finding flaws in the design
That beast is hard to bring down, those convincing lies it sells
And he'll prey upon your differences so you fight amongst yourselves
Man, it's a con, You're the mark
When you step up to play the game they won't even need three cards
The infotainer is the joker
With a pair of loaded dice
You come up snake eyes when you throw them, flipping channels late at night
We're all lovin' it!