SCHWARTZENEGGAR LYRICS

"Art XX Craft"

The nondescript man that you pass in the street
Is a law unto himself when he places his feet
In the symbol of a square and solemnly declares
That he'll "hele, concele and never revele"
And secrets or mysteries given by decree
Under pain of death by the 33rd degree
Standing in the threshold of an ancient rite
The hoodwink is removed and he's brought into the light
Kneels on his left knee, right foot in a square,
Reenacts a murder, it's a sinister affair
Stands above a crowd in a lambskin shroud
That unprintable name can be uttered out loud.

Blood's thicker than water
When you stand before the alter
You're privileged by decree
To confuse and deceive to protect your brotherhood.

Just a nod and wink and a surreptitious move
Are the requisites he needs to stand above reproof
Hold back information from those who might require
Believing as he does that his brothers stand higher
Underneath the frontage of a giving charity
Lies a sect of men clothed in secrecy
Only those within know what there is to gain
Not for us the knowledge, we're merely profane.

Companions, nothing now remains but,
According to ancient custom,
To lock up our secrets in some safe repository,
Uniting in the act of fidelity, fidelity, fidelity, fidelity.

Corruption on a level that's way above our heads
In the halls of justice where the dogs of law tread
Pressure on the knuckle and a brother stands to gain
Through use of the grip called Tubal Cain
Wheels start to turn as a public concern
Becomes a shady deal where the brotherhood can earn
And the deal never reaches the pages of the press
Because the man who runs the paper has the compass at his breast.
Policemen and judges and members of the bar
Stand together at the lodge below a six-sided star
Insist that the working's for the good of us all
Yet obliged to save each other should the masonry fall.

Blood's thicker than water
When you stand before the alter
You're privileged by decree
To confuse and deceive to protect your brotherhood.

In the black room, red room, chamber of death
Swear allegiance to each other with every breath
And these are the men with their fingers in the pies
Of politics and finance and it's no surprise
That the Orangemen in Ireland are yet another angle
For the craft to employ in sorting out the tangle
To a few can rule under brotherhood's thumb
And with a little bit of nudging thy will be done.

"Our motto must be 'all means of force and hypocrisy'.
Only sheer force is victorious in politics
Violence must be the principal,
Cunning and hypocrisy the rule."

Never gonna know who the men in aprons are -
A member of the house or a media star
The master of hounds on his horse at the hunt
With a smile on his fave that's sharp and blunt.
The boss of the bank sworn to secrecy
The man who makes decisions for the record company
Magistrate sitting at the court of law,
Preacher, teacher, minister for war -
We're never going to know who the brotherhood are
We're never going to know who the brotherhood are.
Never going to know who the brotherhood are.
Never going to know who the brotherhood are.

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