Clowns holding cardboard

Verse 1)

They march in circles, holding signs so proud,

Shouting words they don’t understand out loud.

Preachers of freedom, chained by a phrase,

Echoes of anger in a foggy haze.

(Chorus)

Clowns holding cardboard, kings of pretend,

They follow the noise, not knowing the end.

Truth in their pockets, but lost in the spin,

Fighting a battle they’ll never win.

(Verse 2)

They wave their banners under borrowed skies,

Fed by the headlines, built on the lies.

Each word rehearsed, each chant the same,

No one remembers why they came.

(Chorus)

Clowns holding cardboard, kings of pretend,

They follow the noise, not knowing the end.

Truth in their pockets, but lost in the spin,

Fighting a battle they’ll never win.

(Verse 3)

They talk of justice, but don’t know the law,

Quoting the headlines they just saw.

Trading their minds for a moment’s applause,

Sold their reason for someone else’s cause.

(Bridge)

There’s no king here, no throne to take,

Just fools who dream for freedom’s sake.

If they’d just listen, they might see clear,

But noise is louder than reason here.

( Chorus)

Clowns holding cardboard, kings of pretend,

History’s lessons they can’t comprehend.

Truth doesn’t march — it stands within,

While they keep shouting just to fit in.

(Outro)

And when the echoes fade and fall,

They’ll wonder if they knew at all.