Page 27 – THE COLLINS BLOODLINE

(slow drum thump, creeping bass, cold winds howling in background) Yo... The Collins name — hidden deep like a blade in the grave, Move in silence, got more power than the Roths ever gave, Kept they faces in the shadows, but they hands run the strings, Black moon thrones, dictating moves for kings. 1955 — that high council convened, Grande Mother in black, small but supreme, Sittin’ on an ebony and gold moon throne, Jewels drippin’, dark crown, she commanded alone. Gold bricks laid down at her feet like offerings, Two boys by her side — cold-blooded sovereigns, Tom Collins passin' out papers, secret plans in scripts, Blueprints of a New World in Satan's grip. Insurance games, blood names, hidden in suits, Move money through companies, roots deep in the loot, Not just bankers or brokers — they occult architects, Layin' bricks for the system that your soul collects. Discussed the Ark — yeah, that ancient spark, Mocked holy relics under rituals dark, Whole council of thirteen — Grand Druid elite, Pushin’ timetables forward with blood at their feet. Gunned down their own if they break the designs, Even bloodlines get sacrificed to the shrine, This ain't no storybook, no fairytale line, It's the blueprint you live in — blind by design. (beat fades into heavy distorted echo, lingering bells)