All subjects to be deconditioned!
Fall into line!
Attention! unpredictable, forward march!
New wonders, new horrors
Tornado for the obligations to convention
For the convolutions
In the skull, cyclone
Wire brushes to the vermin trash!
Clotted thoughs, frozen now melt
Behind us the universe
With us inhumanity
Against universal humanity
Any means is right
And proper only the right to the mean average
On parade the psychiatric unit
Over-the-top ascetics up front
Next in line the wild rank and file
Just one thing in their heads:
One half of my dreams is shaved bald
The first battering on the door
The first one from official quarters
A matchstick caught in my throat
Through my throat
Which would not
Start a blaze
Get a close shave escape
Those were the dreams.
A song, one, two, three:
'cos nothing has been done that can be done
And nothing has been sung that can be sung
And nothing has been said so go get out and play the game
Nothing has been named that can't be named
And no one has been saved that should have been saved
And nothing you can do but forget(? ) yourself this time
'cos nothing has been known that can't be known
And nothing has been seen that ain't been shown
Nowhere you can be and that isn't where you're meant to be
'all you need is headcleaner!'
The right to attacks of controlled frenzy -
A scout patrol with cosmic iniquity
Takes it into captivity.
Discipline is soaked
Last wind machine before the battle!
This is where the storm unit sweeps out
Deep pore cleansing - never seen again!
Between grey cells and in all the furrows
Where hidden fungus always burrows
It is too late
Bombarded with salutes and mowed down
Straight with headcleaner!
This here is in flames, that there has
Heavy and thick ash rain.
Dissolved in smoke and fog.
It's getting light, not a new day
But an approaching fire; stay at a distance:
Darkness will return.
The sun is rising, gloomy eclipse of the sun.
Everything is coated with ash
We, however, who now know the danger and
Who are aware of it, even we cannot yet make
Up our minds...