Do the people always exist Where there's no telly And no place to get pissed The crops they are sold I've had a bad year Their children will starve And live in fear
All that matters Never random Even God-dwellers Live in cellars Hi Tech Cities Such a pity Life is sterile Never pretty
Originality Is there no goal? Be the same
??? ??? big brother All those ??? There is no other
Nowhere to weep The masses sleep In occupations or incubations All your rumours are on the file This we say "Don't charge for style" _______________________________________________________________________
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