It’s the sequence of Life

What’s this Fibonacci game?

Every design has a designer

Give the Creator His praise

They brand cars, clothes n’ everything

Give Him the glory due His name

By Him they even live, move, 

And have the ability to breathe

The audacity to curse 

The One Whom they bereave 

How can they claim

The bang had no Banger?

Let’s see them build a house

Without lifting a finger

Or construct anything, no engineers 

And architects working together 

Tired of this disrespectful rebellion

The enemy roaring like a lion

Going around seeking whom

He may devour

His seed stealing the praise

Of the Heavenly Father

Copied styles, stolen history,

And lies aplenty

Carved their faces everywhere

To show they “own” many

“Owners” not originators of anything

The Tom-foolery coming to end

As we sing

Is fallen Babylon

Babylon is fallen

For making merchandise, 

Merchandising souls of men

For lying, stealing, 

And killing too

Finally your end 

Has come unto you

Babylon is fallen

Is fallen Babylon

And they shall not be found

Anymore

At

All