The vogue of madness

The curtains of the world are closing

The show is almost over

The oligarchs are soaked with gold

They have us all at their mercy

And there's nothing you can do

Men in sickness of mind

Are happily blind

To the carnage of the end

The world was mostly sleeping

When men in gold were blinding the people

Seducing them wit lush lies

There is nothing to worry about

Said the ghosts of bended knees

You cannot beat the Oligarchs

You cannot reason with those 

Who ignore the questions you want to ask

We fell asleep without a wheel

The toll of trying to stay afloat

On a rowing boat with no paddle

Whilst the Oligarchs buy ships 

Built for kings and Queens

Fires are spreading across the land

The devilry is the currency

That sucks you into a hole that we did not see

Money means nothing to the wealthy

It's the power of spewing cruelty

And the entertaining of the collapse

They watch from afar

And laugh

War is now a pack of cards

Played by bloodsucking aliens

Who were never human

And there's nothing you can do

As we walk towards the neanderthal caves

The rich will remain singing jesus cannot save

The rich do not believe in the idiea of graves.

JMN 2026