On 14 April 1912, the White Star Line’s unsinkable Titanic, the pride of Great Britain, the world’s most powerful country, hit an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sank, taking with her over a thousand passengers and crew. Today, 98 years later, England is nearly bankrupt and Europe and the United States close behind. In 1912 the future of Western society was seen as limitless. Today the future of Western civilization is cloudy at best, with populations expecting government handouts to continue unabated despite frightening debt, with populations bereft of any knowledge of their country’s history or culture, and with politicians unwilling and unable to tell the truth, even if they knew it. The iceberg is closer to us now than it ever was in our history, and when we hit that iceberg it will be more than a passenger liner that goes down. Multiculturalism and political correctness have sapped all notion of what is right and good about our country from the populace, and the mommy state politicians have rented our souls with brass plated lead coins they insist are gold. Unless we take our country back and stop the insanity, we will very shortly hit that iceberg, and when we do you will find the water is a whole lot colder than you could have ever imagined.
We speak of Titanic and icebergs and floe
I’ve heard of it somewhere and here’s what I know
On a sad day in April of ‘75
Hardly a man is now alive
Now wait just a minute that was Paul Revere
Who rode a horse somewhere, or that’s what I hear
And sometime in April that ship came to harm
She sank, I believe, on some Middlesex farm
The past seems so hazy, so far out of date
The future will come though it may be quite late
The present is peaceful, with goodies for free
I know ‘cause they say so each night on TV
I vote the straight ticket ‘cause else what’s the use
If stuff starts to go wrong I’ve got an excuse
But so far all’s well and I’m quite pleased to say
That my life is one swellegant joy day to day
The government works so that life is quite nice
Though lately I’m seeing a good bit of ice
The captain has said there is nothing to fear
We shall break all the records by end of the year
I sleep soundly now in my Promenade berth
As my ship sails serenely upon this fair earth
I go up on deck to a starry filled night
With there in the distance a glorious sight
Pale white in the darkness, an iceberg I’m told
Now who would have thought that this water’s so cold