RIP Winston Smith
Two-Minute Hate (pt 2)
Everything is holy. Everything a mirage.
I took my place in the middle row, become
saturated by the machine grinder voice
pounding us into hisses and bleats,
firing up to a delirious bloodlust frenzy;
then I saw you, closed fist punching
the air, a vengeful angel ready to kill to die
0ur minds akimbo in this rampant madness.
This city is a dark star in a windowless room
you take my hand play with my coat buttons
ask me if I want to be free, as if one death
will be enough to quench my thirst.
I took my place in the middle row, become
saturated by the machine grinder voice
pounding us into hisses and bleats,
firing up to a delirious bloodlust frenzy;
then I saw you, closed fist punching
the air, a vengeful angel ready to kill to die
0ur minds akimbo in this rampant madness.
This city is a dark star in a windowless room
you take my hand play with my coat buttons
ask me if I want to be free, as if one death
will be enough to quench my thirst.