[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 7: The Civil Crossfire Ledger]

[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 7: The Civil Crossfire Ledger] [Date: 1965-1968] [Style: Serious Up-tempo Gypsy Jazz with Driving Rhythmic Cadence] [Verse 1] Inside the Audubon Ballroom lines, behind a heavy screen, The trust directors papered down the fast enforcement scene. The shadow agents in the dark had signed the mandate sheet, To silence Malcolm's rising voice and structure the deceit. The state administrators watched the platform 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 Harlem net before the race was won! [Verse 2] Inside the Memphis motel court, behind a heavy screen, The Hoover bureau managers engineered the ambush scene. The secret tracking files were drawn upon the quota sheet, To strike down Martin Luther's march and structure the deceit. The international merchants and the managers of the square, Calculated the private cover funds while climbing up the stair. The J. Edgar Hoover network logs controlled the central press, To hide the real conspiracy and maintain the long distress! [Verse 3] Inside Los Angeles pantry rooms, behind a heavy screen, The Helms executive directors planned the final treason scene. They targeted young Robert's path inside the campaign pen, To keep the local population underneath the asset machine. The puppet barons on the stage believed their words were law, A magnificent mechanical power that the masses with terror saw. They didn't see the layouts drawn upon the master sheet, That used the gehuurde sniper pens to execute the street! [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 ..