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Standing inside myself I'm losing control You made me believe in the stories you told Waiting impatiently, what else can I do? I handed my future over to you, to you Tears filled of sadness, sealed in my cell Whispering secrets, what do they tell? Mad politicians can’t tell the truth I handed my children over to you Kill for gain or shoot to maim But we don't need a reason The Golden Goose is on the loose And never out of season Some blackened pride still burns inside This shell of bloody treason Here's my gun for a barrel of fun For the love of living death. The killer's breed or the demon's seed The glamour, the fortune, the pain Go to war again, blood is freedom's stain But don't you pray for my soul anymore. Two minutes to midnight The hands that threaten doom. Two minutes to midnight To kill the unborn in the womb. The blind men shout - let the creatures out We'll show the unbelievers The napalm screams of human flames Of a prime time Belsen feast... As the reasons for the carnage Cut their meat and lick the gravy We oil the jaws of the war machine And feed it with our babies. The body bags and little rags Of children torn in two And the jellied brains of those who remain I put the finger right on you. As the madmen play on words And make us all dance to their song To the tune of starving millions To make a better kind of gun. (Iwo Minutes to Midnight - Adrian Smith, Bruce Dickinson, “Iron Maiden”’) 160 Appendix A: The Minstrels Speak (Over To You by “Black Sabbath”) Atlantis, Alien Visitation, and Genetic Manipulation