Everybody dead
Only he is walking
Through these empty streets
Unnamed and long since broken
Towards a distant goal
That hides behind horizon
February snow
Cold and paralyzing
Are they all in love
Or oxytocin addicts
Looking for a fix
Like those church fanatics
Burying themselves
In texts of Holy Bible
Happy to obey
Worship any idol
But they are left behind
So is the future
Time to judge yourself
Be your own butcher