Obama en de MicroChip: ‘Jullie zijn vrij als jullie doen wat wij zeggen’ (wij willen je geest)


RFID chips and tags

En het maakt, dat aan allen, de kleinen en de groten, de rijken en de armen, de vrijen en de slaven, een merkteken gegeven wordt op hun rechterhand of op hun voorhoofd, [en] dat niemand kan kopen of verkopen, dan wie het merkteken, de naam van het beest, of het getal van zijn naam heeft. Hier is de wijsheid: wie verstand heeft, berekene het getal van het beest, want het is een getal van een mens, en zijn getal is zeshonderd zesenzestig.” – Openbaring 13; 1-18

http://topinfopost.com ; http://topinfopost.com

Lyrics

Your cellphone, your wallet, your time, your ideas.
No bar-code, no party, no ID, no beers.
Your bankcard, your license, your thoughts, your fears.
No SIM card, no disco, no photo, not here.
Your blood, your sweat, your passions, your regrets.
Your profits, your time off, your fashions, your sex.
Your pills, your grass, your tits, your ass.
Your laughs, your balls, we want it all (we want your soul).

Your cash, your house, your phone, your life (we want your soul).

Tell us your habits, your fads, your fears.
Give us your address, your shoe size, your years.
Your digits, your plans, your number, your eyes.
Your schedule, your desktop, your details, your life.
Show us your children, your photos, your home.
Here, take credit, take insurance, take a loan.
Get a job, get a pension, get a haircut, get a suit.
Play the lottery, play football, play the field, snort some toot.

We’ll show you shrinks, we’ll show you spooks, we’ll buy you drinks, throw away your books.
We’ll sell you crap, we’ll charge you tax, we’re out buying big guns and you’ll front the cash (we want your soul).

Your cash, your house, your phone, your life (we want your soul).

Your thoughts, your emotions, your love, your dreams.
Your checkbook, your essence, your sweat, your screams.
Your security, your sobriety, your innocence, your society.
Your self, your place, your distance, your space.

Go back to bed America, your government is in control again.
Here. Watch this. Shut up.
You are free to do as we tell you.
You are free to do as we tell you.

Here’s boy bands, here’s Mackers, here’s Britney, here’s cola.
Here’s pizza, here’s TV, here’s some rock and some roller.
Watch commercials, more commercials, watch Jerry, not Oprah.
Buy a better life from the comfort of your sofa.
Here’s popcorn, here’s magazines, here’s milkshakes, here’s blue jeans.
Here’s padded bras, here’s armpit wax, here’s football shirts, here’s baseball caps.
Here’s live talk-shows, here’s video games, here’s cola-lite, here’s ten more lanes.
Here’s filter-tips, here’s collagen lips, here’s all-night malls, here’s plastic hips (we want your soul).

Go back to bed America, your government is in control again.
Here. Here’s American Gladiators. Watch this. Shut up.
Go back to bed America, here’s American Gladiators.
Here’s 56 channels of it.
Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together,
and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom.
Here you go America.
You are free to do as we tell you.
You are free to do as we tell you.

No hippies, no strays, no drop-outs, no gays.
No lefties, no loonies, no opinions, no way.
No thinkers, no teachers, no facts, no freaks.
No skaters, no tweekers, no truth, no sleep.

Here’s popcorn, here’s magazines, here’s milkshakes, here’s blue jeans.
Here’s padded bras, here’s armpit wax, here’s football shirts, here’s baseball caps.
Here’s very very very very very very very very very very very very long infomercials.

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