Osteomalacia or melanoma

They keep us sick so we require fixing Just like our cars we must continue to break They keep us detained in our own planet They control where you go and how you get there They aren't your parents, they are your rulers They are controlled by the money we spend We play this game to keep them going We are the mice inside the maze Our cheese turned green, we could buy a hybrid We tend to do everything that they say We can see the truth so they poison our brood The option of greatness must be taken away We must believe only what they tell us to We can't disagree with their almighty cliche The ones that know the truth are a dwindling race While the masses of filler, spill over the brim A sad little species too busy to enjoy the world Always on there way to go laid.. Or paid.. Or go to a parade Lets all go in this one direction, ignore the ones standing still For they are the wise and they should be killed