Guest
In December 2023 my Frisian sound technician Paul Faber from Youtube and Bitchute channel “Kosmonoxcide“ gave me his classical guitar, through which Homie Hross (Sean Quichotte) got some musical and most of all political inspiration to make my first genuine “Alpine Heidi Song“ titled “Hey SwiSSy, are you Busy at the BIS-sie“, with which my Frisian sound technician will supposedly make a professional clip with lyrics, drums and synthesiser - oh boy, I can hardly wait anymore for it to be ready and start my music career producing my SwiSS album with loads of “Heidi Songs“ and “Heidi Lyrics“. I guess though, for the time being I'd better cancel my SwiSS concert tour or maybe just postpone it for more appropriate times. Contact details of Frisian sound technician Paul Faber: faberpaul1984@ on telephone 31- 613300132 in the autonomous Frisian Republic. Lyrics by Sean Quixote & The Octogon Bangers: Hey SwiSSy, are you busy? The BIS, call it the BISsie. SwiSSy busy at the BISsie. (Refrain). Hitler financed at Villa Schönberg. Raven of Zürich finance jerk. Hitler's SwiSS raven; Humanity, impossible to save 'em. (Refrain) SwiSSyland base of Pharaoh. Dumb humanity don't know. Homie Hross full of rage. In this goddamn final age. (Refrain) 1291 Knights Templàr. Another psy op farce. Templar invented banks. Better refuse their ranks. (Refrain) 7 Hills in SwiSSyland. How do we defend. SwiSS Beast with 7 heads. Hell is what she gets. (Refrain) White man never built in stone. Pharaoh came and is a clone. So Pharaoh became nobility. And has no more credibility. (Refrain) The neutral base . Of the Master Race. What to do with the elite. Only option is delete. (Refrain) Every time when I listen to my “Hey SwiSSy“ clip and hear myself sing, I feel Victor Jara near me and feel the same emotions as listening to his songs for freedom and justice in the world with the same underlying sadness in his voice, as when I listen to my own voice singing my song against these SwiSS Nazis and their incredible crimes against humanity. Victor Jara got murdered by the Nazis in the notorious football stadium in 1973 at the age of just 40 years old, just as the SwiSSies murdered me inside, and I wasn't even 40 years old, when the SwiSSies tortured me through Code O2T the first time in 1997 spending one entire year in an isolation cell without enough oxygen. Due to the SwiSS terror and torture from 1997 until 2024 I didn't play the guitar anymore for 27 years until now with my “Hey SwiSSy“ clip, as if something had snapped inside of me through the SwiSS hatred, terror and torture. And it was also the SwiSSies and their Bernese police chief Heinrich Rothmund, who issued Red Cross passports to all the Nazi war criminals like Klaus Barbie, Adolf Eichmann, Joseph Mengele, Ante Pavelic and the rest to take the ODESSA ratline to South America. Today this SwiSS Red Cross Nazi organisation and the Geneva based UN United Nations Nazi organisation find it okay, that the Hamas Rapist Party do their Nazi crimes against defenceless Jaywalkers and their children, Hey SwiSSy! So in some sense of destiny I've always felt connected to Victor Jara through music and political commitment, and now coming to a climax, how SwiSSy is the common Nazi denominator leading to both Victor Jara's agony and mine; Veritas Temporis Filia - the truth is the daughter of time. Just wait SwiSSy, and fear the truth coming at you! There are many conflicting accounts of Jara's last days but the 2019 Netflix documentary Massacre at the Stadium pieces together a convincing narrative. As a famous musician and prominent supporter of Allende, Jara was swiftly recognised on his way into the stadium. An army officer threw a lit cigarette on the ground, made Jara crawl for it, then stamped on his wrists. Jara was first separated from the other detainees, then beaten and tortured in the bowels of the stadium. At one point, he defiantly sang “Venceremos (We Will Win)“, Allende's 1970 election anthem, through split lips. On the morning of the 16th, according to a fellow detainee, Jara asked for a pen and notebook and scribbled the lyrics to “Estadio Chile“, which were later smuggled out of the stadium: “How hard it is to sing when I must sing of horror. / Horror which I am living, horror which I am dying.“ Two hours later, he was shot dead, then his body was riddled with machine-gun bullets and dumped in the street. He was 40.
