Ladies and Gentlemen,
allow me to introduce something
many might consider revolutionary,
psychosomatic, pathological,
paranoiac, or—plain old scary.

BUT NOT ME…
I know a good thing when I see one,
and I knew it when I smelt
MORTE D’ARTHUR.

A fragrance so royal,
so mighty,
it had to be named after a mythic King.
So new, it’s about time.
So fantastic, it’s more than magic—
it kills you.

Wear it and your time is up.
48 hours, 48 years,
how long? — no one knows
but as sure as cancer,
MORTE D’ARTHUR
kills you.

Think of the fashion statement—
when people smell you—they know—
you’ve made a commitment,
you’re different, someone
extraordinary, someone
ahead of the pack.

MORTE D’ARTHUR
I’m wearing it now …
my mind’s made up,
from now on, for me
it’s my way.

Tell your friends,
let your family know,
brag to your neighbours,
everyone will notice
it’s a brand new you —
share your timeline with us online.

What are you waiting for?
More of this
boring pedestrian reality?
You can continue to wade through
a sea of shit
if that is what you want
lonely, unnoticed, unhappy
unloved
but not me —
now,
I’m the guy in control.

MORTE D’ARTHUR

Take the plunge
into an unimaginable future
a timeless Avalon.
the fabulous
the unforgettable
that belongs to those who
seize their fate.

Embrace the scent of destiny,
the scent of the event
that will define everything about you
your end, your curtain call,
your relentless rejoinder
“you can’t ignore me”

MORTE D’ARTHUR
because the end is very mysterious,
and so very, very now.

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