Ratio Contraria I: March of the Undead

Woke up naked on the street
Only to find Bible and meat
Screwed heads of chauffeurs and cops
Walking matchsticks across the stops
Ticking away the arms of clock
7AM class, still on the road oh f**k
Breakfast aroma of armpits and sweat
It's the march of ants into their death
Prisoners of school and fishes in the net
What's the difference between math and death?
It's the flight of the moth into the fire
The rise of hell and the fall of empire