They call us by numbers, not by names
They tell us we are sheep, not men
Give us choices that are not choices
They tell us our lives are filled with shame
Nowhere to run, cornered in the lion's den
Nothing available, not even our voices
So what is my life to these who dare
Do they want my joy or suffering
Do they worry or should they care
No, the helicopters are there, hovering
They gather us, as if in a zoo
With no possible way out
We've nothing we might do
The machine never stops
It leaves no doubt
They decide what is or isn't true
We need protein, they feed us slop
It is time for the sheep to be their own revolution
