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In a strange whoosh of wind that whistles ominously around roofs and corners. Come the words of a song and something is not right. It says: The lights are on but no one is home. So what really happens in the great White House?

Look, between the sheets of the one-world-order, there is a louse hiding. This is a man with his head in the sand just like an ostrich. With his fingers in his ears, he does not hear the big roar. Nor does he see Russia standing
dominantly, aggressively, with a clenched fist, ready to crush everything in its path.

Biden thinks he’s a man, but he remains just an old, useless, mouse. Who are desperately clinging to the keys to the world economy’s vault. Know therefore, oh world population, something is alarmingly not right. Look, Babylon suddenly behaves conservative and chaste overnight. But it is way too late for the White House.

Therefore the waters of the seas begin to bubble and fizz everywhere. The convection currents react to this in a great gust of wind. Unprecedented hurricane winds, along with earthquakes, begin to crush everything in its path.  Therefore listen to the wind that begins to whistle ominously around roofs and corners.