Democracy
(G. Stapleton/C. Stewart)
Verse 1
An idea… Democracy
A revolution is taking out a government that’s breaking down
Democracy
It’s like a kind of religion in that people end up dying for it
Democracy
It’s not enough to keep the people from wanting freedom, you gotta take it down.
Chorus
These words, these truths, these times
They are a changing fast, changing fast
Verse 2
Valour… A city wall
And there’s a woman who’s crying cause her lover won’t be coming home no more.
Democracy
It’s not enough to keep the people from wanting freedom, you gotta take it down.
Chorus
These words, these truths, these times
They are a changing fast, changing fast
Middle 8
These lies, these words
These lies, these times
Verse 3
And there’s a word… Hypocrisy
All that matters is how much they’re going to put in their pockets for killing off
Democracy
It’s not enough to keep the people from wanting freedom, you gotta take it down.
Chorus
These words, these truths, these times
They are a changing fast, changing fast
Repeat Verse 1
Outro
These lies, these times, they are a changing fast
These truths, these times, they are a changing fast
They are a changing fast, changing, changing fast
These times, they are a changing fast
They are a changing fast
“Democracy” is a stark examination of how a powerful idea meant to protect freedom can be hollowed out, weaponised, and ultimately turned against the very people it claims to serve. The song treats democracy not as a living system, but as an abstract concept that has hardened into ideology, ritual, and justification.
The verses circle around big words, Democracy, Revolution, Valour, Hypocrisy and deliberately strip them of sentimentality. These are not ideals held gently; they are tools used by those in power.
The repeated line about having to “take it down” suggests that suppressing freedom requires more than control of people, it requires dismantling the idea itself, or corrupting it so thoroughly that it no longer inspires resistance.
Against this abstraction, the song inserts brief but devastating human images: a woman crying behind a city wall because her lover will not return. This moment grounds the song emotionally.
It makes clear that behind every slogan, every political system, every war fought “for democracy,” there is personal loss that never makes it into speeches or history books.
As the song progresses, hypocrisy becomes explicit. Power is exposed as transactional. Ideals are less important than profit, and violence becomes a business decision. Democracy, in this context, isn’t attacked as a principle, but as a label, something invoked to legitimise actions that directly contradict its supposed values.
The chorus and middle section blur “truths,” “lies,” “words,” and “times,” reflecting how language itself becomes unstable. Meaning shifts. Rhetoric replaces reality. Nothing stands still, and certainty dissolves.
By the outro, truth and lies are almost interchangeable, both swept along by rapidly changing times.
In short, “Democracy” is not a protest song with demands or solutions. It’s a confrontation with political language, moral erosion, and the cost of belief when ideas are elevated above people.
It leaves the listener sitting in discomfort, aware that systems may claim noble intentions while quietly consuming lives in the background.