Decadentist reload 2012

Shortly before the end an overripe fruit unleashed a captivating smell that was only excelled by the chant of the dying swan on a golden lake at sunset. A zealous decadent of the 2012 movement which had been known as hyperactive Y2K conspiracy blogger during the nineties and zeroes had scribbled EndZeit in an armed ghetto style onto the face of Monalisa and became the new internet-video-hype. Somewhere on a remote mountain top a silhuette seems to be in some sort of a rant-chant-dance in the morning light of a winter morning

To oh one two

To oh! one two

To oh! one two

and everyone is waiting for the three

Calamity finality

a count up blow

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

and everyone is praying on their knees

paying little big time end time fees

Calamity finality

totality of bancorrupcy

yet another exploitation of our fears

from heart beats' race to flushy tears

a blow up count

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

why everyone is buying all those f lying ones

like that returning flying flu from outside to you

and the needle against it

or both fever and folly in the meat on your plague

and a tighter controll at animal farm

oh recycled tales of instability and emergency

serving rules of oppression

and the repeating of the echo of the end of the worlds

plus another savior to ease transition

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

So let me ask you one more time

why is everyone here buying all those f lying ones

instead of beaming with the joyful ones

to oh one two

to oh! one two

to oh one two

[this numerology hidden deep inside mumblology

sends your favorite transaction into space and action

sending out:

money, hopes and beliefs

ethic griefs and the human right for optimism

into various black holes of annihilation

coming in and receiving:

yet another kick for your fear

yet another squeeze for your tear

one more dose of mental slavery

cancel transaction:

time to breath and smile and glow

time for inside outside peace to slow

the quickbeat clickspeed of our fear

and the business in get out of it]