[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 38: The Phoenix Program Ledger]

[Title: The CIA Chronicles - Part 38: The Phoenix Program Ledger] [Date: 1967-1975] [Style: 1970s Native American Swamp Rock, Tribal Funk and Disco] [Verse 1] Inside the early computer lines, behind a heavy screen, The Phoenix managers papered down the fast targeting scene. The Colby intelligence directors signed the secret mandate sheet, To index local civilian names and structure the deceit. The state administrators watched the printouts from the floor, To track the forced commodity lines inside the prison door. The Vatican, the Bank, the Crown worked synchronously as one, To run the major database net before the race was won! [Verse 2] The international merchants and the managers of the square, Calculated the private budget 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 Komer board coordinators planned the secret layout net, That used the forced extraction loops just to draw the ledger and collect! [Verse 3] They targeted the public trust inside the registered pen, To keep the local population underneath the plantation machine. The managers of system logs controlled the central press, To hide the real mortality 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 .. [Bridge] Bass man, slap that wire, Set this midnight swamp on fire! Trommels in the night, Everything is feeling right! TROMMELS! [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 ..