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"YOLO," said Millenials, and "yeet," the Zoomers cried "Rizzler gyatt fanum tax," the Alphas then replied And lo, there came a shaking as an ebon spire rose Upon it writ the tongues of men, their generations' prose And from the sky a thund'rous voice called out unto the stone As golden letters glowed upon its surface, newly shown: "RIZZLER GYATT FANUM TAX, SIGMA OHIO SKIBIDI" And all beheld the words embossed theron in great timidity With shaking and with wavering voice, the grim refrain began As all the generations sang the verse at its command Their weeping and their running sores did not delay The chanting of that fevered song as night succumbed to day But rose that morn a blighted sun whose light scoured like a flood The sky was rent asunder and the rivers turned to blood Their flesh peeled off in sickly strips, their bones were rendered bare And still they chanted ever on, the words they uttered there Until bone and flesh and earth and death were forgotten things And still unbidden, undesired, the blackened spire sings Around it wind the whispers of the souls in its captivity: "rizzler gyatt fanum tax... sigma ohio skibidi"