Nauru's the Lord of Trues

Head hunting shrinking cutting down the ego’s totems swift blow to the pride of me myself and I selfish iotum Dethroning the king of the wooden hut whack with my cocoa machete not a hard nut to crack A pleasant island where all could be yours into a worldly nutshell the sincere milk pours Spirit’s truth mercy celebrates an island victory on big stick impelled the selfish iotum fire dried Denying then mortifying the me myself and I no more sin eating witchdoctor’s couch I abhor Appeasing ceremonial volcano’s apatite no more for my God the Lord of Truth has cut down the idols No search party for selfish iotum’s pole revival ego’s totem lies dead beneath the water fall Heard no more war drum’s da dum da dum the big stick plumb all enemies had to succumb One swift blow truth has cut ego’s totem’s lies to root rising no more the king of the wooden taboo A new King Jesus with out me myself and I King enthroned this hut is becoming an island paradise