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
Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2010
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