BLOOD SHINES THROUGH SHARPENED TEETH. Through the blood foamed waves of shattered dreams, the silver surfers are riding their razorblades. Every time an elegant move causes the throat-slit of a mindless diver or lurker, a cheerful grin oozes out of their mercurial faces, evaporating into the cruel, enemy sun. Ignorants. Noone will win, noone will survive. Only glory can stand forever. One last gasp or silent cry in the dark alleys of XXX. Mindless spiritual guzzlers flooding side alleys, spending ...

BLOOD SHINES THROUGH SHARPENED TEETH. Through the blood foamed waves of shattered dreams, the silver surfers are riding their razorblades. Every time an elegant move causes the throat-slit of a mindless diver or lurker, a cheerful grin oozes out of their mercurial faces, evaporating into the cruel, enemy sun. Ignorants. Noone will win, noone will survive. Only glory can stand forever. One last gasp or silent cry in the dark alleys of XXX. Mindless spiritual guzzlers flooding side alleys, spending their lifetimes and their midget nuclear sucker punch arsenal burning toxine waste within their tiny intestinal walls. Flies glowing up one last time before the final verdict of the 2.5 Watt light bulb. Insignificantly small, though endlessly disgusting insects with their glittering, shiny carbonide shields crawling over the gargantuan mountain of faeces, reflecting the chemical metallic colours of their own stink, product of countless generations without proper garbage disposal. The alps, the andes, the Himalaya? No: Kilimandjaro, roof of the planet, PILE OF SHIT. Sitting on top of this colossal muckhill they keep getting high on methan backflashes of power, their inebriated minds raising faint phantoms of kingdom and NOBILITY , the cast away dreams of HUMANS who used to populate this place long time before the age of garbage. But at last: noone will win, noone will survive.ONLY THE KRAKEN WILL PREVAIL. The kraken who was here from the beginning and will continue to live, blossom and prosper, forever. At once, the sky turned red and in the sunwashed avenues of the southern dream, waves of broken teeth flooded the gutters, flushing the operating point of oblivion. Then, in a moment of slight distraction, you turn your head and perceive the voice of the mighty elk. Listen carefully, for only he will speak the truth.