Текст песни
They told us we were crazy, paranoid and blind
Said the whispers in the static were a sickness of the mind
But in a dusty file cabinet in Langley, Virginia piled
The blueprint for the silence of a generation’s child
They laced the drinks at Deep Creek, the Cointreau on the table
Sidney’s little chemistry set, science without labels
Frank went out the window on the 13th floor that night
They called it suicide — they didn’t know that he could see the light
They called it conspiracy when we spoke the truth
Now the documents are breathing, got the receipts to prove
Every shadow that they cast was just the shape of what they’d planned
The paranoia wasn’t crazy — we just couldn’t understand
That the madness they were making was the signal, not the noise
They told us we were broken — we were listening to their toys
PRISM in the server room, XKEYSCORE’s the key
Every keystroke, every whisper, every document we see
Snowden ran with gigabytes while the chorus called him traitor
But the truth has a momentum that no lock can regulate
The fiber optics in the ocean drink the words we never said
Tempora records the voices of the living and the dead
Bill Binney at the terminal, the math was always clear
They could sort the signal perfectly — they just don’t want you here
They called it conspiracy when we spoke the truth
Now the documents are breathing, got the receipts to prove
Every shadow that they cast was just the shape of what they’d planned
The paranoia wasn’t crazy — we just couldn’t understand
That the madness they were making was the signal, not the noise
They told us we were broken — we were listening to their toys
Mockingbird’s in every headline, COINTELPRO’s alive
Ten thousand targeted individuals learning how to survive
Dragonflies with cameras, insects with a mission
Is it paranoia when the files confirm the vision?
MKUltra buried, but the echo never died
It learned to wear a badge and call itself the good guys
The line between the madness and the method starts to blur
When every scream you ever screamed was manufactured to be heard
They said we saw patterns where there were none
They said the mind betrays the ones who look too long
But the files exist
The programs existed
Frank Olson existed
So tell me again — who was the crazy one?
