Resources are gone
chica Pecado is gone
Hope was born dead
and
the sun seems to
melt
more than yesterday
our daily 4,99 unhealthy fake priced
greasy-coltan
fish and chips.
Why then hurry
or complain?
Nowhere is not accepting
migrants anymore
since the void stocks
hyped and
Fugazzy Inc.
devoured Concurrence Corp.
The walls to jump
stay once more
in our mental supermarkets.
Whereas
illness stains could
waive this elementary
protocol.
Meanwhile,
early at night
your thirst awakes you:
Go scroll an essential lie
to stay home and survive.
As you may know,
it sounds better among us
to surrender, before
starting to stink
too critical.
Rustville
He we are.
No teeth left.
I, me, mine.
Functional
limits.
Farts travel from east to west
inside a supersonic can
making "unbegreiflich" business
with no need to be scanned
cool enough and wealthy
healthy-well-looking
addled smily
demential and also slaved
like you,
by a shady-whip algorithm.
Who cares then?
Stay calm and syntonize.
Stay calm and resyntonize.
The Future winkles from
your free 4D glasses.
"Current" is a mountain of shit
tasty mountain of shit.
But you will love it.
You will love it.
Will love.
It.
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