December twenty-fifth, nineteen sixty-six,
Los-Virgos, Nether Regions.
That's what ID proclaims
Concerning my origins.
I've graduated college
At Washington, D.C.
"White House denies the knowledge"-
Was all I kept to see.
In Roswell and Bermuda
They're guarding night and day,
Denying deepest secrets.
They're NASA/NSA.
Rice called them Talamasca,
Chris Carter: Cancermen.
Who stands behind the maskface?
What is their dreadful plan?
And now they recruit me,
They want my mind and soul,
Those worshipers of Power.
(They're building back the Wall!)

While I'm writing this letter, my beloved, I'm sitting
alone at my apartment, a cup of tea is getting cold and a
rope is ready, hanging down from the ceiling like a dead
snake. Bugs everywhere-THEY are listening.  And I am
listening too, to the news. Only now do I sense the
connection between all the unspeakable horrors the mankind
suffers and suffered all over the world. Middle East,
Sarajevo, Nagorny Karabach, Columbia, and earlier-
Watergate, Nam, Third Reich, Lincoln's assassination... It's
the same powerful order, under different disguises and
governments...
But I am the one to take my own life...
Adieu, mon amour.  M.N.

Everything is connected.
Nothing is neglected.
They covet gold and youth.
They sacrifice the truth.
Yes
No less
Success
By any means necessary.