This is intended as a purely satirical effort. Although the perspective is a somewhat cynical view of current events in the world as of today; and may seem political; there is no social or political intent, or meaning to the lyrics other than humor! So suck it up and have a laugh, right down to the elusive double entendre in verse 6.
The homeland has gone condition-red
There’s a rainbow on the house, the Cloud is in every head
Agenda-21, it won’t be long
F.E.M.A. camps built by us, for us and monitored by drone
Arm yourself, defend your home
Identify the wretch; they’re not gonna come alone
UFO’s, Bigfoot, Zombie’s in reality
In the non-broadcast news, seen and heard seen on YouTube TV
Preparation for what is to come
When you’re desensitized, you don’t see harm
The Georgia Guide Stones won’t be wrong
They tell you what you can expect, five hundred million live, with billions dead
Hey boy…. What was that you said about my beloved Georgia?
I don’t think I like what I heard son
We’re gonna remove you from public view
Before you start some shit
Adhere to rules not made by us
The threat comes from within
Change the lifestyle of a society (What?)
To accommodate those, that come to take, then destroy the seed
Expect the worst, with all regret
With no support, from those who rule
The politicians, elected by us
Work for the “ante-(ceeeeeee)”, and nothing less
Open your eyes to U.N. non-truth
Question everything, the media tells you
Our tree is dying from the root
Branches wither, leaves fall, no time to save what’s left at all
I don’t think we have a snowball’s chance in hell son
Of ever surviving the damage that’s been done,
They don’t care about us, we’re just a tool to be used and discarded like that last muffin
If you even think you are significant boy, please tell me how.
Are you military, scientist, N.S.A., super rich, genius, what son?
Do you have a miracle cure for some shit they’re afraid of?
Or are you just turbaned, a son of the east that believes you have a right to sit on the throne above us?
You’re just that last tool in an otherwise empty box
Yea, we’ll give you a try, why not?
We gave that last S.O.B. one
And he fucked us
Maybe the solution is, “nuke till crispy”
Copyright © 2016 John Knight. All Rights Reserved.
Published by Noah Ohne Music.