(Wake Me Up) When Substance Reigns

A circus of shiny rhetoric where the animals decide
But the trainers tamper with their food at night
A butcher runs a slaughterhouse where the cattle choose their fate
But showered in hormones he smells like the perfect mate
Please wake me up when substance reigns
These eyes cannot stand watching that paralyzed, bald eagle kept in chains
Ignored and muted for their aims
The few that are left to offer change
A herd of higher rodents watch all the flourishes and pomp
And their cross will mark the rock from which to jump
A famine-stricken society, a solution on a plate
But they choose to feed on ideology that won’t satiate
Bridge:
What is the merit of choice if the critical voice
Drowns in dishonest opposition?
What if the susurrus of reason is drowned out by
Ideology’s roar?
Democracy dies in the dust if the process is just
Another blind religion
What is it all for?