"What could be more simple and more complex, more obvious and more profound than a portrait?" - Charles Baudelaire
In a world controlled by fire In a world controlled by fire Psychotic preachers thrive
They use the waves to bind us They use the screens to blind us I joined headless forces They told us what to do We worked, we fought, we bled
A cogwheel in the system A ghost in the machine In my private thoughts Only pain felt real
Cry! I am crying, in the portrait Of a headless man Laugh! I am laughing, in the portrait Of a headless man
I am a man with strong regrets I followed great deceivers Believed in headless leaders They played their game, true sons of Cain But I was a hopeless dreamer With my head deep in the clouds
More joined the fiery leaders And blood was shed in rivers Those without a mind had to pick our side With the use of fearsome methods One more empty frame ready for display On a gallery of headless portraits
Cry! I am crying, in the portrait Of a headless man Laugh! I am laughing, in the portrait Of a headless man