Don Quixote, the world’s a mess, Time to drop the foolishness! Ditch your Sancho, take the whip, Let your words like lances rip, Striking Rot with fearless might, Truth instead of dreamer’s sight.
No illusions—scrap them all, Life’s a dark grotesque and cruel. Dulcinea? Leave behind, Trash like that just chains the mind. Smash corruption, crush the lies, See the filth and recognize.
One stands lonely, proud, aware In a world of twisted glare. This’s the age of doom and fire, Satan’s filth will soon expire— Drowned in madness, lost in grime, Dragged to Hell’s abyss in time.
Yet a few stand bold, apart, Pure in rage and whole in heart. Maybe they will find the way To a world not built on clay.