| Heads of motionless men are bending
|
| Over the receding ground
|
| Useless hands are laid on knees
|
| It will be so nice to shoo them down
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Four these fat men cut off from real life
|
| By connected filters set in line
|
| Tone down the keenness of their sight
|
| To dull just like a blunted knife
|
| Back to cruelty when starvation is staged
|
| Back to cruelty to make up for their tedious lives
|
| Back to bruelty, back to cruelty
|
| Outsides a run of coded pictures
|
| They try to sort out once again
|
| But truth slips out between their fingers
|
| With the handling of these cards in vain
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| A word will never weep
|
| Back to cuelty
|
| A book will never bleed
|
| Remember thoughts are a waste of time
|
| That keep you from action and fight
|
| Remember to think is to stare at oneself
|
| Another way of staying deaf and blind
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Get rid of cold white visions
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| They’re through with emotions
|
| Strike to make the fat men utter
|
| Cries of hatred, cries of anger
|
| Beat their flesh to shake them out
|
| Of obscene sleep now let them shout
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Don’t stay behind your window
|
| Don’t kill your crawling shadow
|
| That holds you to the floor
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| Back to cruelty
|
| And beat them
|
| I’ma thankin' a you |