[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 10: The 1977 Plantation Transition]

[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 10: The 1977 Plantation Transition] [Date: 1977] [Style: Serious Up-tempo Gypsy Jazz with Driving Rhythmic Cadence] [Verse 1] Inside the late transition blocks, behind a heavy screen, The trust directors papered down the frozen mainframe scene. The network managers had signed the global mandate sheet, To lock the supranational tracts and structure the deceit. The state administrators watched the ledgers from the floor, To track the forced commodity lines inside the weapon door. The Vatican, the Bank, the Crown worked synchronously as one, To run the major transition net before the race was won! [Verse 2] The international merchants and the managers of the square, Calculated the private corporate funds while climbing up the stair. The house of Rothschild inside London drew the inner line, To buy the strategic property and block the light divine. The puppet barons on the stage believed their words were law, A magnificent mechanical power that the masses with terror saw. The hidden operators planned the automated net, That used the forced surveillance pens just to draw the ledger and collect! [Verse 3] They targeted the public trust inside the boundary pen, To keep the local population underneath the plantation machine. The managers of system logs controlled the central press, To hide the massive tracking charts and maintain the long distress. The living witnesses today still look back at the frame, How every single government has played the lying game. The columns marched by thousands through the dust and through the mud, While the system ran the numbers on the cost of human blood! [Chorus] The puppet theater is truly closing now, the curtain falls and they stand exposed, No more strings and no more crowns, We watch with our Hands raised high, And see them standing in the full light... They broke their solemn duty to the crowd, But we have no masters on this sovereign land, And no wooden director commands this living hand Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on .. [Outro] The golden altars treat presidents with lead, the ancient crowns will rust, The manufactured empires will crumble into dust. There was no PRIDE On there side, just greed so they choose to lock their mind! God says: Your Body is MY Temple And no wooden master commands this living heart. Born in Freedom, And in Freedom, we will live on ..