The cross predicts the end of the world when the great Mayan calendar reaches its end point, when Jonathan sees it on the wall of the cave, it could be a sign that the world is going to end, obviously becoming a ‘scorched earth’.

Also, the 4 A’s could symbolize the 4 fixed signs of the zodiac, there are lots of groups of 4 things mentioned.

The four fixed signs of the Zodiac are:

• Taurus ()

• Leo ()

• Scorpio ()

• Aquarius ()

Fixed Signs are associated with stabilization, determination, depth and persistence. They are powerful and willfull in all they do, often achieving much more than the other two qualities. On the other hand, they can also be inflexible, rigid, stubborn, opinionated and single-minded. These traits are often paired with the need to be “correct”: they will ruthlessly fight on behalf of their beliefs, regardless of any contrary beliefs deemed sufficiently credible. Only during moments of importance or necessity would they consider changing an opinion. (From Wikipedia)

This is kind of reflective of what Adalia (or maybe the River People) are like, they have depth unlike the citizens of ML. (Or even the differences between the river people and the world :p )

Also, isn’t it weird that the symbol for Scorpio is an M and the Aquarius is Water, like M for MADINA and Water as in LAKE.

Maybe I’m crazy, of course I am, I’m also a little obsessed! Sorry if all of that was completely pointless! xx

———————————————————————————

The Disappearance of Adalia
May 29th, 1951

Local socialite Adalia, was reported missing at the early hours of Sunday morning.

She was last seen Saturday evening at the annual Arlene Ball.
Friends and family say that her behavior leading to her disappearance was “bizarre and unusual.”

“It was almost like she knew something that she wasn’t supposed to know, and it was only a matter of time before that knowledge would get her in trouble.”
In her public life, Adalia was best known for her unrelenting beauty and inimitable charm,

But in her private life, she was a much different character. A search of Adalia’s attic apartment revealed a host of secret letters she had written and received from an unknown source.

The contents of the correspondences are unknown, as they seem to be written in code and using a variety of aliases. The clues may unveil a fascinating bombshell, although, the challenge for investigators is to decipher the text, that was presumably used to conceal the identities of those with whom she corresponded.

———————————————————————————

October 19, 1951

That’s just the thing about Madina Lake.

Everyone wants to be famous.

We all want to feel that our existance in this world is louder than anyone elses.

The new souls trample each other in a quest to maintain their social status.

Meanwhile the old souls lurk in the shadows, waiting for their opportunity to……..

.make a change.

Adalia’s disappearance has shaken this town to its core.

[Matthew on TRP.com]

“Now we’re totally fucked,” your sub-conscious kindly dictates to you as if you weren’t aware of the perils that you find yourself in.  Determining the time of day proves daunting in and of itself, as the thick branches and spattering of leaves have knitted you an unwanted blanket of darkness.  Apart from the obvious, why do you feel so alone?  There are no other humans in sight, but there certainly is no shortage of life around you.  The life I speak of however, is perhaps not the sort that can offer you comfort in this scenario.  It is intensely quiet as though you’re simply a form of entertainment, and your every movement keeps them reeling in suspense.

There she was again. Her innocence devoured too soon. She can’t be more than 6 years old and she’s alone, shivering in the middle of the forest. You’re reaching out to her but she can’t see or hear you. You can’t touch her, you can’t save her or even love her. And you know this, so you don’t even try, which is utterly sad. What is to be said for your existential connection to this beautiful little girl who was dealt such a horrible hand? The pursuit of truth has left you damaged and hollowed and uninspired. Mercy isn’t even an option for you.

You stealthily escaped from what was widely believed to be your own funeral, roughly 24 hours ago.  That puts you leaving Madina Lake’s town limit eight hours later.  How could the cave not be here?  You followed the river, just as you have a dozen times before and the fork that jaunts down slope to the left for 50 yards is simply not there.

You still can’t believe this is happening to you.  It’s you, and it’s real and you are alone, fending for yourself with no foreseeable help.  You wonder how everyone could just abandon you like this.  Not that this is the first time you‘ve fallen victim to this travesty, but in this set of circumstances, it’s pretty serious.  You are so angry.  How could this be real?  The sympathy you feel for yourself produces a flood of tears that pour down your face.   The world can be a cold place.  “Humanity is selfish and cruel, innately, I really believe that.”  this dialogue from your sub-conscious is not helping.  While certainly an inopportune time to be philosophical, the thought does cross your mind as to who exactly that voice is that’s inside your head.  Is it god? Is that the almighty benevolent force that has rung in peace and tranquility and faith and hope to endless herds of people?  Is that voice the hideous underbelly of this all loving entity?  It could make sense when considering it is also the vehicle driving bottomless hate, murders and persecutions throughout history, you wouldn’t put it passed this loving Deity. Who is this little girl that seems to be real in only another dimension and not yours? And why can’t you reach her?

If you can debate the identity of this voice, does that make it something outside of you?  The un-objective, ego-less purveyor of truth? Or perhaps it is the opposite.  Perhaps it is actually the ego itself, completely autonomous from the you, that judges you and taunts you as you fight your way through life.

You need to stay focused on your objective. This is the only thing that is left to care about. Hidden in plain sight. That’s where you’ve determined would be the best place to hide what you have. What you have around your neck is ominous and unsuspecting. One wouldn’t think that it’s contents holds the key to human life on Earth. What hangs in this locket dangling around your neck has more significance and importance than anything else in the world right now. Fate chooses us. Of all the souls that are born into this fine game, fate had its scope fixed on me.. There is no time to debate the irony of my situation. I was chosen because of my self-lessness. It came so naturally to me. I never suffered from the disease of self importance. Who knew that this could be my demise?

This isn’t right.

It was that haunting stillness that preludes any terrorizing occurrence.  You feel a warmth overtake your body while its nature prepares you for what the intelligent universe has planned for you.  The hair stands up on your body and your heart is exploding through your chest.  Sequences of nerve cell firings are gearing up your senses. Your pupils dilate while your nervous system begins racing blood to your muscles in so to prepare you for the fight of your life.

Rational thoughts escape you.

Your awareness intensifies, vision sharpens, impulse quickens, your sensation of pain diminishes,  while you scan the area looking for the enemy.  Your fight or flight system bypasses the rational mind,  fear becomes the lens with which you see the world.

And suddenly, there it was.  All of your most sinister fears, exploding to life like volcanic lava detonating after thousands of years in hibernation.  Only a few feet in front of you, the shadowy silhouette of an old man hunched over, emerges in your path.  His head is down and all you can see is the surface of his top hat and his tall obsessively polished walking stick gripped tightly in his left hand.

Life slows to a crawl.  He slowly raises his head to expose his long gray hair flowing out of his hat and draping over his narrow shoulders.

He reveals his eyes, which are deep and black and devoid of any emotion.  The man moves mechanically and in slow motion, or perhaps that illusion is what your body’s fight or flight mode has offered you to assist in your safe escape.

He is wearing a sharply tailored black silk tuxedo, that matches the blackness in his pointy little eyes.
He has you frozen still in some hypnotically induced trance.
The man speaks no words to you but instead is making a painful grunting noise, as if simply being alive was a daunting enough struggle for him.  You are in the presence of pure evil.

He tilts his head towards the sky and slowly, like an old factory machine, drops his lower jaw towards the Earth.  Two razor sharp fangs protrude from his face like swords.

The cave was sure to give me some solace.  It will give me relief in the form of answers to questions and  hopefully, it will torch down some of the cob webs that were strangling me.  The weather deposited debris of countless mythologies manifested themselves right around here somewhere. And this asylum, I was desperate for.

Moments later, and there it was.  Just as I remembered, it was about 50 meters down the way.   As anticipated, the mere sight of this location provided an immediate decompressing from the hell I’ve been enduring.   Despite its likeliness to be short lived, at that moment, I could breath again.  And that was a luxury in this nightmare.

Something was missing.  Upon my last visit a torch blazed the entry way.  Which served its practical purpose but was also a gesture from my hosts that I had effectively located them. This time, the flame was extinguished. And this would not be the antidote I longed for.

I looked over my shoulder to make sure nobody was in sight.  Nothing was in my vision, but  I was certain that I wasn’t alone.  The cave was my only hope.   I raced down the slope and slid inside through it’s narrow opening.

The cave was as dark as the back of my mind and its tenants were every bit as horrifying,  They were the same unseeable energies that fill my world with anxiety and unpredictability without uttering so much as a single whisper.

I crept in with my head down and let my arms do the reconnaissance of my surroundings.  It was dead silent in here.  On a rock ledge I brushed against a small metal object with glass panels on four sides..  It was a kerosene lantern.  I snatched it up and ran the palm of my hand along the surface to find the matches.  The blackness had me surrounded and it was beginning to take its toll.  The lantern gave me an ace, but the rest of my cards surely won’t hold. Tears were pouring down my face and my throat tightened up.  All of my muscles were fully clenched.  In the silence, all that could be heard was the gutteral shriek of desperation that rips out of my mouth when I exhale.

This crippling fear caused me to swing at the striking surface clumsily, missing a few times before I managed a direct hit. The sulfur hissed and ignited the matchstick bringing this desolate enclosure to life.  I lit the lantern and turned to face my dwelling.

The solitude, the weight in the air, the sediments in the puddles, everything was almost like I had imagined it to be.  The walls were cold and black. The ground was composed of finely grated dirt and rock.  The odor struck me as something worthy of consideration.  I expected the smell of dirt and rock and the must of centuries of stagnant earth.  I detected the smell of some sort of volcanic fall out, which also was of no surprise, but there was something else among it.  It was a faint sweet smell.  I could taste it too.  There was a sweet flavor on my tongue, and I had no idea what this could be from.  I desperately had to get a grip on my reality which was melting into a horrific delusion at every turn.  I  ran my vision steadily along the wall, in the direction of the entrance, which was just behind me a few meters.  What immediately caught my attention was four large, white images that someone had painted against the cold, hard canvas.  These lifeless walls were imbued with an indiscernible symbology that were constructed in the shape of a cross.  It was curious, but they brought a welcomed sign of vitality to my surroundings.  To my inexperienced eyes, the images invoked alchemist or Masonic characteristics.  The first image was an eight rayed star.  It looked like the star was exploding.  Next to that, and moving counter clockwise was a fairy tale crescent moon with a bulging eye aptly drawn in place.  The third and most detailed image was of the sun.  The sun was personified with an angry expression.  Stars tilted on their axis hanged in each corner of this illustration. The fourth image made the least sense to me.  It was a sphere divided into four quadrants, with the letter “A“, lying sideways,  filling each one.  The crossbar in the “A” was bent to a 90 degree angle. I thought this particular detail will be an effective piece of evidence to store in my memory bank. Surely this is the mark of some sub-sect or cultist organization that has infested this place. I’d never seen a detail like that in any script before in Madina Lake’s murky history.

At the end of the illustration was a date.  The images were weathered and faded.  In my mind this painting could have been thousands of years old but there was no way of telling with any accuracy.  What I found perplexing and deeply unsettling was that the date etched under the image read June 25th, 1951.  And that was today.

By the time my vision had wrapped around  a complete 180 degrees, what I saw next marked the beginning of my life slipping into an uncontrollable downward spiral.  Reallity, as I understood it, will be forever changed.

The entrance had disappeared.

Just as my brain was trying to unravel this anomaly, my consciousness had started  to blur.  Despite the gravity of these events,  and the magnitude of it’s consequences, my attention once again had struck upon a seemingly much less substantial detail. The peculiarity of that odor that stained my tongue in a faint sweetness, had crossed my mind yet again.

That would be the last thought that I remember having before my mind completely warped and my world fell apart.

The ground beneath me was mutating right in front of my eyes.  The ground up rock and dust was beginning to swirl all around me like a tornado.  I was now standing in finely grated sand amidst the epicenter of chaos.  The floor dropped from under me like the last grains of sand passing through an hour glass.  I was weightless.  The surface swallowed me up with a few tons of sand and I was in an utterly horrific free fall. I was aware of the futility of my efforts, still I frantically waved my arms.   Hopelessly, I was grasping for any sort of savior in this pouring wall of dune.   Then I twisted and turned and it felt like my body slammed into a wall, but i didn’t, there was no wall. All that had happened was that I was now moving sideways.  It was a sensation I had never even imagined possible.  Gravity seemed like the only connection to logic that this situation had offered me, and now this too, had abandoned the laws by which it is governed.  The magnificent physical force of the intelligent Universe had shifted completely sideways.  For the first time ever in my life, I had hoped it to just be over.
This was greater than the worst fears perceivable to man.  This was a catastrophic dispelling of all indoctrination of Lila since I arrived here through the portal of the womb.  I wavered in and out of consciousness and let my body be completely limp. I decidedly gave myself to this force and begged it in my mind to have mercy.

Suddenly, I was nowhere.  Not part of anything or anyone, I had no identity, no past, no future.   I didn’t have a name, I didn’t have a body, there was no history to me, no story.   I was living.  There were no thoughts.  I just was.   I didn’t feel anything.   My fall, now sideways, began to slow.  But my body was not detached from this physical world.  My movements had slowed with the rest of my surroundings.  I was slowing so rapidly that I finally came to a still.  I was lying down on a floor, that my previous understanding would have deemed a wall.   I was leaning against a wall with the gravity of my weight pushing me sideways into it.
I stabilized myself.

It was still and exceptionally quiet.  The gaps in sound were hauntingly soothing.  The only visual of this place was the pattern-less  wavering shapes that my mind cast on the back of my eyelids.   Every sensation, from every method in which we humans experience the world, seeemed crystal clear.  Thundering out of silence, this perceptual reality was acutely remarkable.

The silence was pierced with the tone of a man’s voice.
“Jonathan.”
“Who are you?”
“I am not the ghost of you, but I am your ghost.”
“What is this place, where am I?
“It’s in the recesses of our minds where we overcome the laws of chance.  We are drifting in and out of existence.  The sense of continuity we uphold is held only by our memories.  I am the one who brought you here.  This place, as you referred to it, will reveal itself after your experience in its grip.
You’re are accustomed to operating only using 7% of the physical domain we are in.  Your people, your world, your existence is on the brink of collapse until  and unless you can find a path to unlock the other chambers.”
“While you are here, beware of the tricks our minds can play.  We are not the only force here anymore, but we are the ones who have your best interest at heart.  Not only humanity‘s well-fare, but its survival is integral to this idea.”
I thought again. I was somewhere new. We interpret the world through our senses and always have, but what if we didn’t have our senses? What would the world be then? My gut compelled me to trust this voice, and considering it was my only choice, i pledged to it.
“You need to help me, please! I’m desperate.”
“You are running out of time. What you started in Madina Lake needs to be finished, and we are running out of time. The Earth’s polarity has begun to shift already. We are engaged in a battle here Jonathan, we are not alone, tell me you understand this. You need to find the Creater, now. Remember, this is Lila, The Divine Game.”

His demeanor was so level and peaceful, in absolute contrast to the implications of his words. I recognized this entity as greater than myself and this was good, because whatever it was, it seemed to be on my side. Although among his words was a warning. Something is hunting me in here. I’m a place where good and evil both exist.

At that moment everything stopped.  The voice had disappeared.   I was resting in the gaps between everything.  I felt safe and I was alive in the presence of this force.  In this dark haunt of solitude, I would find my strength and understanding of the life around me.
And then it slipped away.  The feeling was depleting and being overtaken with something antagonistic.  The force was diametrically shifting in essence.
I began cracking my eyelids open and blinking rapidly to put a visual to this sensation.  I was against the wall at one end of a square room, which was completely outfitted in white. The floors all slanted and coned down towards the center of the room, which was about 10 ft below the level I was on.  I was bracing myself to the wall and looking down towards the hole in the middle of the floor.  There was an apparition floating around the room.  It was a ghost, though clearly, this was not my ghost. This was not the one who made me comfortable here.  It’s appearance was a collection of mist and smoke that took the shape of a man.  It’s hood was pulled over most of its face, revealing only a small part of it, which was black and empty.  He was circling rapidly around the hole, floating gracefully with sudden sharp movements in aimless directions.  The room became draped in silence.
Suddenly, the ghost disappeared from my vision but I felt an intense energy all around me. Some sort of shadowy tension was building in this 30 second silence.  Without any warning, I could feel its breath on my shoulder blade. I jerked my head around to face it, just as  I felt its roar.  It screamed louder than a fleet of fighter jets.  And I was in the epicenter of a jet engine thrusting a rocket into outer space.  It was pure  and unapologetic white noise blaring in my face.  It was the scream of a thousand souls purging themselves from the Earth in which they were stuck, mercilessly against their will.
My legs went numb and I collapsed.  I began a tumbling descent into the pit at the center of the room which was now engulfed in a ring of fire.
I raced head first into the flames and nothing could stop me. I rolled right through the fire and disappeared into a black hole at the center of this hell.  im my linear chronology of time, how did my course in life bring my to this circumstance? I wondered about Adalia. Who is she or more interestingly, what is she? I’m only at the beginning of my quest with these forces and this question is boggling my mind. Why her and subsequently, why me? Our affiliation was non existent yesterday, and today our connection is of critical importance.

Blackness wrapped around me like a prison cell. I was in absolute sensory deprivation. The silence was so encompassing that i could hear the echoes of synapse firings across my neurons (?). As I weightlessly tumbled through nothingness, i determined this could be only be one place. I was in outer space. The distance between the cells in my body have the same vastness as the space between galaxies. I was aware of this but its realism was incomprehensible until now. I was in another domain.
Off in the far distance, a softly lit ball was materializing. It was more like an idea than a literal object. It retained the qualities of a visible thing radiating and eschewing vibrations in all directions. It was spinning in synch with my own fumblings. We were engaged in some sort of existential relationship with one another. The seeds of a non-literal exchange of being was blossoming and our contact was imminent.
The ball was living and breathing and growing. At least the illusion of time and space made it appear as such. We were on a path towards one another in this seemingly senseless game of the mind.

The qualities of this experience bore a remarkable similarity to the fire pit that sent me here. Sounds and lights throbbed and pulsed, mimicking the thoughts and feelings that my body and mind was experiencing. When i felt calm, my emotion permeated this entity. When i got excited, it flared up in exact syncopation. The beauty of this energy ball was overwhelming. It hovered right in front me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. it was mesmorizing and stunning, with brilliant colors. It was compassionate, it was non judging, it was thoughtful and unconditional. It was safe, trusting. Then the sound found its way into my ears. A peaceful gentle, hum plugged into my brain. If i’d felt anything like this before, it was when i was in the womb. In that gray and divine time when the soul enters the body, while it’s being nourished and protected my its loving mother.
Nevermind the silly fables the various religions propagate, this here was Heaven. And it was sweeter than anything they’ve depicted in their bibles. This was not the promise of all material abundance a shallow man could imagine, or the endless parade of beautiful virgins for your musings. This is a version of heaven that is indescribable. Words don’t exist to define what this is.

If i could harness this sensation, and show it to people, it would redefine life on Earth. It would desicrate the human disease of decadence, illuminating the value of peace in your mind. The ego incubating since the fertile crescent, would whither up and die in such an atmosphere.
It was like a thrill ride. Instead of a light tunnel, this was the real incarnate. This was what those rides try to emulate. This was a ride through a black hole and by the time i had opened my eyes, i was spouting out through a white hole into a heavenly bliss. This was consciousness.
The ball, now in full view directly in front of my untethered human casing, was displaying an image.
For all i knew, this could be painted on the back of my eyes, but this image was animate. It was an old cathedral, from what appeared to be ancient Rome. As the scene descended upon this courtyard, there was a man. An old man in a white robe. He was on his knees with his back to me. He appeared to be close to death from where I was, but I hadn’t seen his face yet. The lens which was feeding this scene to me crept around towards the man’s front side, just as he slowly twisted his head to see me. His entire face, forehead to chin, ear to ear, was marked. A familiar symbol was tattooed on this old man’s face.

A voice materialized from the entity.
“You know Jonathan, 100s of years ago it was believed that the Earth was the center of the Universe. And that the sun and the moon and the planets and stars all revolved around us. Those who fostered this idea had the money. And that money secured them the power and the captive minds. With this, and a compelling scripture, they would have the people.”
“Who? What people?”
“Well ultimately it’s more than that. It was the symptom of this belief that brought us to this perilous time. Man’s desperation to control the Universe. The symptom Jonathan, is that we as individuals, progressively became infected with a mentality. The notion that we are the most important beings in our Universe, the idea that the individual reigns king of the universe. The symptom is the ego. Their enemy came in the form of the great thinker. These minds had deconstructed the machines that secured their power. Dogma and science had collided, forcing our great minds into hiding. Secret societies throughout history were born out of necessity, not self importance or elitism. Jonathan, do you know the man with the mark on his face?”
“No, but I know the mark.”
“His name was Nicolaus. Remember Jonathan, this is Lila, the Divine Game.”
“Why is his face marked with an eight pointed star?”

And almost predictably, this domain came crashing down. The voice and its comfort had been sucked away from me. The ball had disappeared, covered up by blackness once again.
What was this serene entity trying to tell me. The spectrum of human emotion in its most polarized fashion displayed in equal parts from the same source.

And then I heard something.
“But see we too, have learned to manipulate this place with chemicals. And that is precisely why this chemist will be outwitted. You see, this is a war of the minds. And through chemicals, we will manipulate your journey here.”

“On the street where I grew up.
There was a man who lived alone.
He used to walk to a part deep in the woods.
I never thought of it.
But he wont leave my head.
I swear I saw him in the woods earlier that night.”
In the song “Not For This World” there’s also a part about an old man.
“I saw a man walk from the trees.
He came and sat next to me.
He said “Boy, if you don’t follow your dreams
You’ll be dead someday, just like me”
Then he got up and walked away.
And I started to think.
He turned around, I saw his face.
And I looked deep in his eyes.
And I realized that man was me.”

sorry if i’m going out on a limb here, but i just had that stroke of (what i thought to be) brilliance, and i had to throw it out there before i woke up tomorrow and forgot. apologies if i’m totally off-track, but i really think i’ve got something here.
i hope that helps.

In an interview, it sounded like Matthew was implying that we, “the fans” are the river people,
I reckon that the citizens of Madina Lake were the “they” in this song, So I see the citizens as critics,or so obsessive that they sort of sucked life from their idols…
Maybe the river people are the victims in this song, maybe this is about society trying to mould us, take away our personalities so that we are all the same, So I thought that the song might be aimed at us?
“to be content is to be a disgrace”- media portrayal- is this about how media pressures us to look/act a certain way as if we shouldn’t be happy with ourselves but always aim higher?

They crawl in your head, they dig in your bones
If you let them they won’t let go
They have no hope, they have no soul
If you let them then they’ll take yours

I think that, They will “crawl in your head”- means that they try to convert you, “dig in your bones”- reshape you and plant their own ideas. they have no souls, because they’ve given in like everyone else. And now they want you to be just like them. – Like the auspice Adalia recieved, “they have no hope, they have no soul, if you let them then they’ll take yours” Maybe It’s a warning from the river people. To try and stop Adalia from getting lost, from “losing her identity” and being something that she’s not.

“You think it feels better on the other side
‘Cause their grass is green and your grass is diseased
Every day drowns in lethargy
But to be content is to burn your wings
Restless, faceless you’ve lost your mind”
maybe this is to the river people who are tempted to give in-they see the perks of fitting in-the social scene etc.. and your “grass is deseased”-in being different you are isolated. if you give in to the pressure,and be like everyone else, you become”faceless” and lose your mind-you lose YOURSELF!!

“When you die you want the world to
Remember you for who you really are
And when you die you want to love yourself ‘Cause you’ll be all alone”
It’s as if this is like a final plea from madina lake to their fans, the river people. Basically its saying you should live life as yourself, not pretending to be something else, so that people can remember you properly, as unique. If you dont,you will resent yourself for being so false. and in the end you’ll be “all alone”- the crowd you follwed wont be there anymore,they will all fade away, So faking life and giving into the media isn’t worth it anyway..

“I’ll take your crystal ball and make this crystal clear
That I won’t sit back and I won’t drown right here
I’ll never wait, I’ll make a million mistakes
But to be content is to be a disgrace”

There’s a fortune teller in Madina Lake named Lucielle, who is thought of as crazy and Pandora taunts her.
After Adalia’s disappearance, Pandora disappears, maybe she fled? maybe that refers to ‘I won’t sit back and I won’t drown right here’ because Pandora (from what I’ve found out) made friends with Adalia to get herself in her headlines, with Adalia gone, she’d be a suspect and would fall back down into nothing. (drown right here) maybe that meant she wasn’t going to sit back and let it happen.

Or, another theory about that verse I have is that Adalia Is actually saying this to Lucielle, Like, Adalia has had some sort of revelation, and she sees that she needs to change, and she needs to “take back her soul”
“I won’t drown right here” seems to me that she’s realise that if she sits and waits then she’ll be “all alone” when she dies.

Also, I’ve noticed that they don’t actually use the words “river people” in the song. I think it also could be about how the residents of Madina Lake fear the river people??

Anyone Agree? Or have I just taken this the wrong way completely? LOL xx