The Watchman Weaps
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#2019,#2019best, #boutthatlife, #krunklikecula, #featuredmaterial, #heat2019, #2019heat, #bmf, #gotsapocketfullofkrunk, #superpositioned1, #eigenvector
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#2019,#2019best, #boutthatlife, #krunklikecula, #featuredmaterial, #heat2019, #2019heat, #bmf, #gotsapocketfullofkrunk, #superpositioned1, #eigenvector
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#2019,#2019best, #boutthatlife, #krunklikecula, #featuredmaterial, #heat2019, #2019heat, #bmf, #gotsapocketfullofkrunk, #superpositioned1, #eigenvector
I was making an allusion of real people having sold out to the materialistic consumer identity promulgated by their society being like NPC’s in a game. They are the marionette puppets who strut and fret upon the stage of life with tremulous clamor which signifies nothing. That and the duty of the Watchman to warn them that the hand of God moves against them. “When I bring the sword upon a land, if the people of the land take a man of their coasts, and set him for their watchman: If when he seeth the sword come upon the land, he blow the trumpet, and warn the people; Then whosoever heareth the sound of the trumpet, and taketh not warning; if the sword come, and take him away, his blood shall be upon his own head. He heard the sound of the trumpet, and took not warning; his blood shall be upon him. But he that taketh warning shall deliver his soul. But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at the watchman's hand.” Ezekiel 33:2-6 KJV
Is this about a game
The Quan speaking the truth Shining light in dark places So you suckas can see Black is the void behind the stares The unwakable, diverted with worldly affairs got they minds caught in the binds of the snares blind to the flash of the Watchman’s flares The sword comes and yet they live unawares The lights are on but no one's upstairs Transfixed in their lust for superficial wares as the prince of the air declares they are lost, what a cost NPCs in the game submitting their souls, they’ve become the profane in the stream of life they float like the jetty going round and around caught up in the eddy They steady, souls drowning in the glow of the tele Morning star fascinates he’s got them already just a commodity, what an atrocity And you still don’t follow me they are lost, what a cost NPCs in the game their consciousness slain In prosperity’s name As the watchman Weaps They shall burn in the flame Writhe in pain This is the endgame For The sons of Cain