Hey guys. I wrote this poem on egyptology recently and thought I'd share. Not looking to start any CT discussion or anything like that - just trying to share a poem :lol:
Tell me no lies
Stop feeding me lines
You know we have eyes
Yet you mess with our minds
They don’t want to talk about it
The subject is rather sore
Cause “pyramidology is for the loons”
Just lemme reassure these old croons
The delusions are yours
They say show me the evidence
I say what are you blind?
But they dismiss as coincidence
It’s convenient they find
Perfect alignment with the stars
At the cross of the leys
At the crux of Earth’s mass
It’s meaningless they say
Tombs for Kings they claim
It’s outrageous and obscene
If they admit they got it wrong
They’ll have been wrong all along
And not just about Kings you see
Copper tools and slaves?
Just gimme a break!
You fib like a child
Or are as dense as a pile
Of limestone, granite and apes
Perfect alignment with the stars
At the cross of the leys
At the crux of Earth’s mass
It’s meaningless they say
Telling me show me the evidence
I say what are you blind?
But they dismiss as coincidence
It’s convenient they find
But the game’s not new
It’s millennia old
Cause time can be cruel
If you’re not in the age of the gold
And it’s not just with Egypt
The condition is widespread
“Those are just piles of stone”
At the Canaries, Sicily and the moon
They get into your head
Fi after Fi
Straight across the globe
Piercing air, land and sea
Equidistant societies
Are what you’ll find
Along parallel 23
They were primitive people
People with primitive ways
Oh, that must be it
How could’ve I missed it
We’ll say you’re right, ok?
Tell me no lies
Stop feeding me lines
You know we have eyes
Yet you mess with our minds
They don’t want to talk about it
The subject is rather sore
Cause “pyramidology is for the loons”
Just lemme reassure these old croons
The delusions are yours
They say show me the evidence
I say what are you blind?
But they dismiss as coincidence
It’s convenient they find
Perfect alignment with the stars
At the cross of the leys
At the crux of Earth’s mass
It’s meaningless they say
Tombs for Kings they claim
It’s outrageous and obscene
If they admit they got it wrong
They’ll have been wrong all along
And not just about Kings you see
Copper tools and slaves?
Just gimme a break!
You fib like a child
Or are as dense as a pile
Of limestone, granite and apes
Perfect alignment with the stars
At the cross of the leys
At the crux of Earth’s mass
It’s meaningless they say
Telling me show me the evidence
I say what are you blind?
But they dismiss as coincidence
It’s convenient they find
But the game’s not new
It’s millennia old
Cause time can be cruel
If you’re not in the age of the gold
And it’s not just with Egypt
The condition is widespread
“Those are just piles of stone”
At the Canaries, Sicily and the moon
They get into your head
Fi after Fi
Straight across the globe
Piercing air, land and sea
Equidistant societies
Are what you’ll find
Along parallel 23
They were primitive people
People with primitive ways
Oh, that must be it
How could’ve I missed it
We’ll say you’re right, ok?
