All the noise, all the light

Which shines, o so bright

Brighter than the stars, we are blinded by the light

Hypnotised, mesmorised, by our own image

Transfixed upon screens

Afraid of bureacrats, afraid of those without a face

For the truth is we are afraid to face ourselves

We are afraid to face the reality of our existence

Conditioned to mock it, to revile it

There is something missing

It glimmers in the darkness

In the darkenss of this blinding light

It is the song of freedom

It is love