[Intro – distant musket-flint spark, slow choir pad] “From Burgundian visions to Brandywine smoke— the line is set, the powder soaks…” [Verse 1] Anne Montechanin — séance flame, Huguenot frame, Medium blood ignites the Du Pont name. Samuel marries spirit-queen, Paris 1737, Alchemy in the bloodstream, coded for heaven. Pierre Samuel born—child prodigy, crystal sight, Latin-Greek flips at twelve, speaking to night-lights. Mother dies, father fists—boy flees the wrath, Uncle’s watch shop sparks the occultist path. Masonic ink — physiocrat quills, Parisian salons, secret revolutionary thrills. Lalande hides him, Madame de Staël funds the flight, Inner-circle Satanic, protected through the night. [Hook – smooth sung cadence, Nate-Dogg vibe] 🎵 Gunpowder gospel—black dust, gold crest, Bloodline lit, press can’t guess. From pass-worded lodges to Delaware mills, Du Pont dynasty—alchemy still. 🎵 [Verse 2] Saint-Simonians mapping Year 2000 New Order, Suez-Panama slicelines, Nile dam border. Androgynous bio-forms cooked in the caves, Grey pilots birthed for the post-human wave. Pierre pushes pedagogy: king-philosopher class, National schools to sear scripture into glass. Jefferson co-signs, Franklin hands the torch, Gunpowder contracts forge the Brandywine forge. Chemistry empire, Teflon throne, Cousins wed cousins to keep charge in the bone. Ball ties, Gardner links, Bilderberg steer, Blood + occult = corporate veneer. [Hook – layered harmonies over boom-bap chug] 🎵 Gunpowder gospel—black dust, gold crest, Bloodline lit, press can’t guess. From pass-worded lodges to Delaware mills, Du Pont dynasty—alchemy still. 🎵 [Verse 3] 1893—Louisville lie, Payne’s pistol spark, Corpses moved, editors bribed, headlines dark. Coroner pens “apoplexy,” Coleman pays the fee, Teflon bloodline—story set free. Irving Saul Shapiro—proxy conduit node, IBM, CitiCorp, CFR code. Rockefeller handshake, Watson wire, Tri-house nexus feeds the global fire. Billion-dollar camouflage, Satanic royalty glide, SIGNAL ROOT decoded; SILK STATIC rides. Whisper their crest, smell cordite in the air, The gospel of gunpowder—Du Ponts in the chair. [Hook – final, choir pad swells beneath vocals] 🎵 Gunpowder gospel—black dust, gold crest, Bloodline lit, press can’t guess. From pass-worded lodges to Delaware mills, Du Pont dynasty—alchemy still. 🎵 [Outro – slow match fizzle, echoing flintlock click] “Powder burns away… but the sigil remains.”
