רעשים של שקט

and the drinks are cold
But nothing dulls the pain
I bite my tongue and sell the lie
Pretend that I belong
Another shot, another high, make it a double
And make it strong

No voice, no choice
You must obey

When the blood runs cold
In the plans we've made
Where the strings are pulled
And the traps are laid
Where the lies are truth
And our lives are trade
As we march in line
In a puppet parade