Continental Kinetic!

[I] Cross the border and leave the vanity at the gate. Here, the night isn't a product; it’s a protected right. From the bunkers of Berlin to the basements of London, Europe doesn’t just host the party—it guards the flame. The Scean!! isn't a trend; it's the heartbeat of a continent that has seen empires fall and kept dancing through the ruins. Step into the dark. The Mortician is impressed.
[1] A fog-machine funeral in a West Berlin hall, Shadows of the Barron of Burial on the graffiti wall. The Blitz Kids in London, a neon-streaked sin, Where the Grave Pact ends and the makeup begins. Synthesizers cold as the iron in the ground, Building a fortress out of a sequence of sound. It was artistic, and private, and heavy with dread, Waking the ghosts and the spirits of the dead! (Geist!)
[C] The clubs are the fuel! The rhythm of the Volk Geist is our only rule! A siren in the night, Calling the believers to the strobe-light light! The community is an engine! It’s a brotherhood of iron! A ritual of fire! Lifting the collective to something much higher! (Wolf!)
[2] The Wall is a memory, the bunkers are wide, The Marquess of the Mortuary has nowhere to hide. Tresor is a vault where the silver was kept, Now it’s a temple where the bass never slept. London’s jungle is a predator’s cry, While The Duke of Damnation watches the sky. From the Love Parade streets to the Spiral Tribe's van, We were the blueprint, the master, the plan!
[C] The clubs are the fuel! The rhythm of the Volk Geist is our only rule! The The Toll of Acheron is a siren in the night, Calling the believers to the strobe-light light! The community is an engine! It’s a brotherhood of iron! A ritual of fire! Lifting the collective to something much higher! (Wolf!)
[B] Across the black water, the culture is a shell! America's a lobby—Europe is the cell! New York is a bank—Berlin is a forge! One is the parasite—the other's the gorge! There, they sell the bottle! Here, we sell the soul! There, they want the status! Here, we want control! In the States, the music is a tool for the brand! In the East, the music is the law of the land! Drink Deep! from the Danube, while the Hudson is dry! In the New World they buy—in the Old World we fly! (Geist!)
[3] The power plant, Turning the silence into a deep-throated chant. Berghain is a myth, a concrete-walled gate, Where the The Earl of Decay is forced to wait. Paris is burning with a French-Touch flame, While London’s dubstep redefines the game. It’s not for the 'gram, it’s not for the clout, It’s the one thing on earth they can’t live without! (Wolf!)
[O] The sun rises over the spire and the dome. In Europe, the night isn't over until the spirit is full. We don’t just have clubs; we have sanctuaries. The The Hallows Decree may be ignored: the underground will never be a museum as long as the blood is still warm. Good morning, Europe. Keep the doors bolted—the Vultures are still watching from across the Hallowed Seas! (Wolf!) - Wolf! 

High Energy 120 BPM/ European Electro Pop, Dark Techno, Industrial Pop, Male.