Spring is upon us said Rosa’s diary
But they threw her in the Rhine declared uncertain victory
A century now of supposed disloyalties
Royalties of this song will go to some kind of disease
Theoretical Bukkake fest jest tragedy
Prompt ill-gotten gains from exorbitant entrance fees
Metabolic bile rile colic envy
The last paroxysm of the Father’s futility
What’s humanity (at all)?
Another night done right in the shooting gallery
Light chronic enmity toward revolutionary fatigue
Eco-catastrophism the ideology of the bourgeoisie
Instead deny alterity, embrace bestiality
The order of things yes we put them in an order
Then we come to them again, we always come to them again
The order of things
The things have an order that we put them in
Young Marx or Old,
Exegesis grows cold, never favors the bold
And what’s humanity at all?
It’s nothing at all
Your separation sustains the thing that you most fear
And like a face drawn in the sand, you’ll soon disappear
Oh what’s humanity at all?
It’s nothing at all.