The streets are lined with banners,
Smiling faces, honest laughters,
Promises echoes from speakers at night,
Selling stories to the left and to the right,

They dance, we dance, and we make noise,
They plead, giving us the delusion of choice,

Delusion of choice, to choose a righteous leader,
or to help someone get in a position of power,
Delusion of choice, we line up to make our mark,
If it doesn’t end up being counted, that would suck.

When all this is done and all has been decided,
They move on, we are still here, ever devoted,
They will serve, serve their true kingmakers,
But who they are, everyone will eventually wonder.