A dirty game

[Verse 1]
There won’t be any winners — your speeches are lethal.
We enter the era of rallies, chasing titles for leaders.
Looking for saviors, we fall — down the spiral of lies,
While hating the one who escaped from the land of ice.

Out on the islands, they don’t see the rising depression.
No matter what name they give Russia — it's drowning in questions.
Eyes averted again: "It’s the West, it’s their show,"
While the crowd chases Death, and the horsemen ride slow.

We don’t choose — they pick for us,
Guided like sheep by a myth and a must.
Speak out — and you're shut down fast,
Truth is a crime, and denial's the mask.

Old men from behind the curtains
Write new scripts with cold assertions.
And we consume it, eyes shut tight —
They dim the facts and filter the light.

We're marching blind behind smooth talkers,
Chained to hope like loyal walkers.
But in the end, it’s clear to see:
We lose again — and the blame is on "we."

[Chorus]
March on!
Another uprising — again, it’s brother against brother.
The world watches and wonders: “Will they tear down each other?”

March on!
No pause, no break — just cycles of rage and belief.
Every side bleeds truth, with loyalty clenched in their teeth.

March on!
Wild eyes in the crowd, hammers swing in the street,
And once again — burnt rubber’s the smell of defeat.

March on!
This land craves heroes, lost in tales of glory.
But is that strength? Or just a borrowed story?

[Verse 2]
Channels shout threats, dressed up as news,
But behind slogans, truth slips and bruises.
One speaks from chains on state TV,
Another runs in worn-out jeans — yet both are unseen.

They split the country like real estate,
You scream — but it’s silence that seals your fate.
They decide for you who to hate,
And if you’re not aligned, just sit down — don’t be late.

We're ghosts in feeds, in filtered reels,
Each post a weapon — each scroll conceals.
They feed us fear till numb becomes norm,
And couch-born “experts” form the storm.

You chase left and right, biting over scraps,
Truth's reserved for those behind maps.
Disagree — you’re tagged and filed,
“Enemy of state” for thinking wild.

Still praying for a “savior,” waiting for skies to part,
But only the rich grow — in wallet and heart.
Up there — it’s steady, behind a fence,
While below, we stare at screens, confused by “common sense.”

[Chorus]
March on!
Another uprising — again, it’s brother against brother.
The world watches and wonders: “Will they tear down each other?”

March on!
No pause, no break — just cycles of rage and belief.
Every side bleeds truth, with loyalty clenched in their teeth.

March on!
Wild eyes in the crowd, hammers swing in the street,
And once again — burnt rubber’s the smell of defeat.

March on!
This land craves heroes, lost in tales of glory.
But is that strength? Or just a borrowed story?

[Verse 3]
You think it's an election? Just a puppet show.
One smiles in a tie, the other mimes what they’re told.
You ask for truth? It’s not on the table.
The ones in uniform lead flocks — stable and able.

"Stay calm," they say — while the streets are drafted.
Forget your home and sleep — it's been redacted.
You search for villains to cover the shame,
While medals rain down — empty yard, no name.

Streets are hushed — fear silences cries.
Laws no longer serve — just punish and pry.
You thought you were a nation? You're numbers with flags,
Step out of line — your house is tagged.

Even churches echo the lines from the feed,
Saints on tanks, faith dressed in greed.
Every prayer's tuned through a podcast mic,
Even heaven’s scripted — and priced just right.

[Outro Verse]
You’re no rebel, no fighter — just loud on your phone,
Your battle’s in comments, while you sit all alone.
And while you post your version of fate,
They’re drawing up plans — and sealing your gate.