The elites think they’re safe, wrapped up in high walls,
Hiring storytellers to answer their calls.
They live in a bubble, shiny and bright,
Thinking their stories will turn wrong into right.
But truth doesn’t shout; it waits, still and unseen,
Lingering quietly, calm, and clean.
They talk and they plan, shaping all that’s shown,
But truth watches closely, patient as stone.
It doesn’t need wealth, power, or spin—
It waits for the moment, and it’ll slip right in.
And no matter how big their stories grow,
Truth seeps through the cracks, showing what they don’t know.
When truth finally appears, it clears the air,
Revealing the secrets hidden there.
No hired words or fancy show
Can stop the truth from letting us know.
Hiring storytellers to answer their calls.
They live in a bubble, shiny and bright,
Thinking their stories will turn wrong into right.
But truth doesn’t shout; it waits, still and unseen,
Lingering quietly, calm, and clean.
They talk and they plan, shaping all that’s shown,
But truth watches closely, patient as stone.
It doesn’t need wealth, power, or spin—
It waits for the moment, and it’ll slip right in.
And no matter how big their stories grow,
Truth seeps through the cracks, showing what they don’t know.
When truth finally appears, it clears the air,
Revealing the secrets hidden there.
No hired words or fancy show
Can stop the truth from letting us know.
