Portrait of a headless man

What could be more simple and more complex, more obvious and more profound than a portrait?

In a world controlled by fire
In a world controlled by fire
Psychotic preachers thrive

They use the waves to bind us
They use the screens to blind us
I joined headless forces
They told us what to do
We worked, we fought, we bled

A cogwheel in the system
A ghost in the machine
In my private thoughts
Only pain felt real

Cry!
I am crying, in the portrait
Of a headless man
Laugh!
I am laughing, in the portrait
Of a headless man

I am a man with strong regrets
I followed great deceivers
Believe in headless leaders
They played their game, true sons of Cain
But I was a hopeless dreamer
With my head deep in the clouds

More joined the fiery leaders
And blood was shed in rivers
Those without a mind had to pick our side
With the use of fearsome methods
One more empty frame ready for display
On a gallery of headless portraits

Cry!
I am crying, in the portrait
Of a headless man
Laugh!
I am laughing, in the portrait
Of a headless man