Jonny Come Lately and Witch Hunt
Jonny Come Lately
This isn't ripe for Freudian interpretations
There is a narrative I am creating
About the world around me
And how I want myself and most importantly my family to live in it
I am using an amalgamation of my experience and the knowledge of ever-changing understanding of everything.
I know what I'm doing, I hope.
Interpreting the universe in this way. Using what came before me to describe now.
That is my point. We are not understanding the past so most of us don't know why we are where we are now. I do know!
Maybe that's my fault
I think I know. But I know I know and I know you know too
What is the crux of our history? I don't even have to say it
You know the two words, five syllables
The last rhymes with history
It's in your mind now as it is in our world.
Yes, I'm late. And that isn't bound by my time on this earth
I'm late to this attack.
Blatant and forthright
There is never atonement. Maybe history isn't studied and maybe atonement is impossible. But in some instances, like this one. There has to be. And until it comes these attacks will continue. For some reason, we aren't supposed to care about our history, what has never stopped happening is only coincidental... "how we got to this very late moment is simply a coincidence...
There is no cause," judges the foreigner.
We can't trust anyone around us and never could and still can't but we're still supposed to. So much so that our coincidental history is theirs too. In fact, it's all theirs, they own it is their cause for their history, our coincidence is their causality. We can't trust them but we're supposed to.
I'm late. I am very late to this attack.
On those on the wrong side of history.
Those who told us how they perceived history and can no longer hold the lie. Atone for it now! (They never will...)
I'm combing through history. Trying to piece together how we all got here. Then melding that with my history and the pieces fit perfectly. The picture is this initial act and this coming ashore and before the foreigner could be asked "what are you doing here?" they answered, the question that there was no time to ask.
I'm late, I know.
But I'm glad I came to this conclusion. It's the only viable one... especially considering history.
Witch Hunt
Truth or not always deny the propaganda
It isn't a coincidence.
A lot of people always tell us to check our problems. When a lot of them have been running for generations. We are running the same. Except we've always been home and don't intend on leaving. The propaganda is inherent dysfunction. We are the scapegoat. When they abandoned where they came from because of its degeneration and bragged about it... We can't help them do this.
This is a warlock hunt.
"He cast a spell on me.
Black magic!
He turned my chickens to hawks.
When it snowed he burned all my crops.
He hypnotized us.
And took the child I handed him, my child.
Burn him at the stake! The warlock, stone him!
He deserves all that is about to happen. Believe me.
He's a warlock and his deep dark black, his black, black, black magic is a danger to us all.
We must get him and all like him before it is too late!" said the Witch.
True or not it does not matter. It's a continuation of history. The means of delivering the propaganda has evolved but the pointing and magnifying are still the same. The fabricated moralizing. Maybe it's a catharsis. Maybe it's narcissus. Maybe it's a deflection. Or maybe it's an opportunity.
The warlock told you to sell your child or abandon your land. Where are these chickenhawks and singed crops? He is a warlock, he was a warlock. The warlock is dead. His grave a mirror. The cause of all the pain and dysfunction; the reason for a loathsome history is gone. The reason for all the poor choices that destroy a society that is filled with people who would be god honest and moral if it weren't for the black magic of the warlock. The warlock's black magic disallows our utopia no more!
Then things didn't change. They got worse and worse.
"The warlock hunt distracted everyone from the true problem. The witches" said the foreigner.
This isn't ripe for Freudian interpretations
There is a narrative I am creating
About the world around me
And how I want myself and most importantly my family to live in it
I am using an amalgamation of my experience and the knowledge of ever-changing understanding of everything.
I know what I'm doing, I hope.
Interpreting the universe in this way. Using what came before me to describe now.
That is my point. We are not understanding the past so most of us don't know why we are where we are now. I do know!
Maybe that's my fault
I think I know. But I know I know and I know you know too
What is the crux of our history? I don't even have to say it
You know the two words, five syllables
The last rhymes with history
It's in your mind now as it is in our world.
Yes, I'm late. And that isn't bound by my time on this earth
I'm late to this attack.
Blatant and forthright
There is never atonement. Maybe history isn't studied and maybe atonement is impossible. But in some instances, like this one. There has to be. And until it comes these attacks will continue. For some reason, we aren't supposed to care about our history, what has never stopped happening is only coincidental... "how we got to this very late moment is simply a coincidence...
There is no cause," judges the foreigner.
We can't trust anyone around us and never could and still can't but we're still supposed to. So much so that our coincidental history is theirs too. In fact, it's all theirs, they own it is their cause for their history, our coincidence is their causality. We can't trust them but we're supposed to.
I'm late. I am very late to this attack.
On those on the wrong side of history.
Those who told us how they perceived history and can no longer hold the lie. Atone for it now! (They never will...)
I'm combing through history. Trying to piece together how we all got here. Then melding that with my history and the pieces fit perfectly. The picture is this initial act and this coming ashore and before the foreigner could be asked "what are you doing here?" they answered, the question that there was no time to ask.
I'm late, I know.
But I'm glad I came to this conclusion. It's the only viable one... especially considering history.
Witch Hunt
Truth or not always deny the propaganda
It isn't a coincidence.
A lot of people always tell us to check our problems. When a lot of them have been running for generations. We are running the same. Except we've always been home and don't intend on leaving. The propaganda is inherent dysfunction. We are the scapegoat. When they abandoned where they came from because of its degeneration and bragged about it... We can't help them do this.
This is a warlock hunt.
"He cast a spell on me.
Black magic!
He turned my chickens to hawks.
When it snowed he burned all my crops.
He hypnotized us.
And took the child I handed him, my child.
Burn him at the stake! The warlock, stone him!
He deserves all that is about to happen. Believe me.
He's a warlock and his deep dark black, his black, black, black magic is a danger to us all.
We must get him and all like him before it is too late!" said the Witch.
True or not it does not matter. It's a continuation of history. The means of delivering the propaganda has evolved but the pointing and magnifying are still the same. The fabricated moralizing. Maybe it's a catharsis. Maybe it's narcissus. Maybe it's a deflection. Or maybe it's an opportunity.
The warlock told you to sell your child or abandon your land. Where are these chickenhawks and singed crops? He is a warlock, he was a warlock. The warlock is dead. His grave a mirror. The cause of all the pain and dysfunction; the reason for a loathsome history is gone. The reason for all the poor choices that destroy a society that is filled with people who would be god honest and moral if it weren't for the black magic of the warlock. The warlock's black magic disallows our utopia no more!
Then things didn't change. They got worse and worse.
"The warlock hunt distracted everyone from the true problem. The witches" said the foreigner.
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