pong
Groupthink Must Die
. . . This is (unintelligible) . . . (signal stronger now) Gene and Chris, can you hear me? Can anyone hear (signal fades) . . . (weakly) I am deadly serious about . . . (fading again)
(faint signal) tea is . . . the tea (tea?) . . . (silence) . . . (faintly) the sea is building heaven . . . (unintelligible) is building heaven (heaven?) . . . (clear now) the key is (inaudible) . . . the key is building seven . . . the key is building (static) . . . flee (flee?) . . . all . . . (clearer now) Free fall. Free fall . . . controlled demolition. All three. If you (inaudible) receiving this message please . . . (signal fades)
. . . can anyone (garbled) . . . (weakly) the bleach . . . (static) bleach (bleach?) . . . (stronger now) On the (signal fades) . . . (clear again) On the beach. On the beach . . . (distorted) . . . (clear again) This (garbled) calling from the Southern Hemisphere. Is (inaudible) hearing this? Is anyone . . . (A hemisphere away a window shade is flapping in a tainted breeze. It may be too late.)
Tunneling deeply in the ground,
Paper trails, budgets, can't be found.
Mag lev makes a funny whir,
Try to watch . . . it's just a blur.
Inner sanctums so concealed,
Projects, dangers not revealed.
Inside rock and inside water,
Shielding men from certain slaughter.
This base, that base all connected,
Hollow mountains in the west,
War games, drills, a secret test . . .
What if J-Team was infected?
Some have died to build the tunnels,
Plunging deep like giant funnels,
Awful secrets, carefully kept . . .
The ones the public can't accept.
Down below, so quiet, so safe . . .
Redundant bunkers and food supplies.
Above, on land where we reside
We're so exposed . . . no place to hide.
Nuclear nightmares we live through,
Radioactive clouds of goo,
Fort was right, so futile to fight,
Machine intelligence controlling you.
Melting into pools of putty,
Glowing softly, looking ruddy,
Man does not control this fire,
Our billion dollar funeral pyre.
Yucca stands empty but should be full,
We are the china shop, cesium the bull.
Half life, no life, what shall it be?
Anxious, fearful, we wait to see.
Nostradamus looked for Mabus,
"Of people and beasts a horrible rout."
Richard sips a bitter drink,
His psychic visions so near the brink.
We are property, scanned from above,
Generals cower deep underground,
Visitors hover, devoid of love . . .
Leaders to save us can't be found.
(faint signal) tea is . . . the tea (tea?) . . . (silence) . . . (faintly) the sea is building heaven . . . (unintelligible) is building heaven (heaven?) . . . (clear now) the key is (inaudible) . . . the key is building seven . . . the key is building (static) . . . flee (flee?) . . . all . . . (clearer now) Free fall. Free fall . . . controlled demolition. All three. If you (inaudible) receiving this message please . . . (signal fades)
. . . can anyone (garbled) . . . (weakly) the bleach . . . (static) bleach (bleach?) . . . (stronger now) On the (signal fades) . . . (clear again) On the beach. On the beach . . . (distorted) . . . (clear again) This (garbled) calling from the Southern Hemisphere. Is (inaudible) hearing this? Is anyone . . . (A hemisphere away a window shade is flapping in a tainted breeze. It may be too late.)
Tunneling deeply in the ground,
Paper trails, budgets, can't be found.
Mag lev makes a funny whir,
Try to watch . . . it's just a blur.
Inner sanctums so concealed,
Projects, dangers not revealed.
Inside rock and inside water,
Shielding men from certain slaughter.
This base, that base all connected,
Hollow mountains in the west,
War games, drills, a secret test . . .
What if J-Team was infected?
Some have died to build the tunnels,
Plunging deep like giant funnels,
Awful secrets, carefully kept . . .
The ones the public can't accept.
Down below, so quiet, so safe . . .
Redundant bunkers and food supplies.
Above, on land where we reside
We're so exposed . . . no place to hide.
Nuclear nightmares we live through,
Radioactive clouds of goo,
Fort was right, so futile to fight,
Machine intelligence controlling you.
Melting into pools of putty,
Glowing softly, looking ruddy,
Man does not control this fire,
Our billion dollar funeral pyre.
Yucca stands empty but should be full,
We are the china shop, cesium the bull.
Half life, no life, what shall it be?
Anxious, fearful, we wait to see.
Nostradamus looked for Mabus,
"Of people and beasts a horrible rout."
Richard sips a bitter drink,
His psychic visions so near the brink.
We are property, scanned from above,
Generals cower deep underground,
Visitors hover, devoid of love . . .
Leaders to save us can't be found.