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The sorcerer brews his potion
In the cauldron of the night
Mixing all the elements
By the pale and flickering light
The sorcerer stirs the mixture
Of the old and of the new
Of the dark arts and the bright ones
In his experimental brew
The sorcerer of the system
Brews his potions every day
In the laboratories of power
Where the public cannot say
What ingredients are added
To the world they must consume
In the sorcerer’s hidden kitchen
In the shadowy back room
But the sorcerer’s brew is failing
As the people start to see
Through the magic of the illusion
To the truth of being free
And when the people see the sorcerer
For the trickster that he is
The cauldron will be overturned
And the world will then be his
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