(Verse 1)
Faded flags on rusty poles,
wave like ghosts above their goals.
Posters smile with perfect lies,
empty words behind their eyes.
Morning papers say “it’s fine,”
while pockets shrink beneath the line.
(Pre-Chorus)
They say “be patient, wait your turn,”
from tinted cars that never learn.
(Chorus)
Oh, the country that smiles too much,
perfumed dreams but out of touch.
They talk about a brighter day,
but leave the people in the grey.
(Verse 2)
Coffee cold, the headlines spin,
plastic truth with a plastic grin.
Young hearts chasing faded fame,
while living costs just stay the same.
(Pre-Chorus)
Freedom feels a little tight,
sweet talk tastes of bitter spite.
(Chorus)
Oh, the country that smiles too much,
perfumed dreams but out of touch.
They talk about a brighter day,
but leave the people in the grey.
(Bridge)
We sing beneath the streetlight glow,
about a future sold too low.
But that’s alright, we’ll laugh somehow,
’til they can’t silence us now.
(Outro)
Oh my land, oh my lie,
your painted grin won’t fool the sky.
We can see, we can tell —
truth won’t buy or sell.
