Poets who can write
Painters who can paint
Talkers who can talk
Buyers who can buy
They’re all vanished
All the lousy politicians will be on the stage,
Front of a crowd that who can’t turn the page
Crying writers will try to write from their cage
There’ll be mayhem, there will be *** with the under-age
People will show politeness, people will show their rage
But nothing will happen,
Purple lights will replace the sunlight
Killers will pray out loud, all together
The last innocent will be a blonde little girl
Cameras will show the gypsies
A minister will die in his seventies
He will die as a hero
There’ll be flying yellow papers,
In the Self Defence Bureau
The last child who’s gonna grow will be an autarch
It began with the story of the ark  
It began with your loneliness
It will be continue with your dreamless mind
The meaning of revolution needs a revolution
The young will be high, glancing down
Careless *** will be a trend in the town
The last tree will be on the playground
After this tumult, nothing will happen again