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In the dirty streets of America, well besieged with Africa immigrants. There, the fallen angels now descend in hordes. In the mains street of Los Angeles, a drug-addict lies critically injured. While nobody cares about this, alongside a prostitute is busy openly whoring.  

Next to this scene, a street-preacher is standing, addressing the passers-by loudly, telling them to convert themselves. This, while he treats himself to drugs with his beggar-offerings. Yes, he catechizes and prophesizes while only communicating with his own demons.  On a plain next door, a previous generation has assembled a statue, in patriotism. But in its collapse, liberalism triumphed in the fall of America.  

In the lunacy of another new drug, a man is busy castrating himself in public. While a street artist fantasizes over this with brush and paint on canvass. In the sewerage-smell of the streets of America, where it reigns as the main fragrance. There where a dirty injection needle rotates from drug-addict to drug-addict.  And in the last neighbourly love where street-inhabitants treat each other on a shared marijuana joint.  

There, it is too late for America to compensate with a solution. But in the White House with its ornaments so polished. There Lucifer begins, in a one-world-order, to stipulate his one-world-citizenship. But look, there the street-lunacy of America has already also damaged Biden’s brain. So, let a civil war indeed try for the last time. Even if it is too late to try to put ointment on this septic would.