Execute

It appears that we have reached the Edge, that zenith where stimuli and comatose collide.
Forty years ago, THE MAN proclaimed the Age of the Gross to be upon us, and even though THE
MAN was destroying our heritage and insulting our intelligence,
that era has become very real.
We labor for pleasure and abhor the guilt of pressure.
My generation will go down as the architects of contemporary disgust.
Some have fought and died.
Others have allowed the strong to be butchered for a price they themselves don't care about
and will never understand.
I myself am beleaguered by the selfish face of a kind of man that is NOT MANKIND.
Distrust in information.
Fundamentalism of opinion.
Catastrophic boredom, and a fanatical devotion to that which DOES NOT MATTER.
Where is your glory now, people?
Where are your gods and politicians?
Where is your shame and salvation?
You Rage For No Reason Because You Have No Reason.

WHAT HAVE YOU EVER FOUGHT FOR?
WHAT HAVE YOU EVER BLED FOR?
THE FACE OF THE EARTH IS SCARRED WITH THE WALKING DEAD.
THE AGE OF THE GROSS IS A LIVING VIRUS.
THIS IS THE FUTURE YOU HAVE CREATED.
THIS IS THE WORLD YOU HAVE SET ABLAZE.
ALL YOUR LIES ARE COMING TRUE.
ALL FREEDOM IS LOST.
ALL HOPE IS GONE.

Похожие новости.

Gazed at the ceiling from below A splendid Michelangelo Filled my heart with delight Last Saturday night Arrived believing from home Climbed every step inside St. Peter's Dome Claustrophobic and ex-Catholic Last Saturday night Now how come nobody

In the spring we made a boat Out of feathers, out of bones. We set fire to our homes, Walking barefoot in the snow. Distant rhythm of the drum As we drifted towards the storm. Baby

I wake with the dawn, something is wrong, Then I hear you breathing softly by my side, And I know that I was dreaming, of a time that may come, When you would

But there is one voice that has never been heard before, The voice of old Mr. World himself, The way he might sound if he could speak to us in our own

Day-In Day-Out Stay-In Fade-Out Day-In Oo Oo Day-Out Oo Oo Oo She was born in a handbag love left on a doorstep What she lacks is a backup nothing seems to make a dent Gonna find her some