The name of the rock song about planters beating herders doesn't always make sense.
They start a war, to hide their tracks,
Cover with sand and bury the past.
Keep the secret, from generations on,
They pass the knowledge in their mystery school songs!
Maybe in a parable, maybe in a verse,
It's always right in front of you, that's just the way it works.
They say it in a way, that leads you astray,
Where are the stars on any given day?
Planters beat the herders... they'll always need more,
Growing population, while killing in war.
It's a delicate balance, struck in a cathedral,
Choosing who will live is knowing good and evil!
They make us choose between two sides
Put on a show while working the inside
Cast the blame on the ones they abuse
Just hear them laughing as they pull off their ruse
With the eye in the sky, decreed from up above,
Anything but filled with love.
This may sound a little insane,
Like learning to dock an airship!