Inside our squalid homes: a safe place behind security doors
Sheltered from all we better ignore: the starving, the homeless, the dying, the poor
Any utopia only makes us scoff
It's all "ok" as long as all can be turned on and off,
As longs as we can relax in our comfort zones and explore the world with the remote control
This city breathes death and disease
A dying bastard on a drip
Part of the myth
They have taken whatever they could find: knocked on our doors,
Or krept inside: replacing everything with an image of it
Who told you that the street never sleeps?
They've taken everything and sold you ease instead
Now lean back: All you need is at your fingertips
Pale screen shines down on you
Sniggers and takes you for a fool
Tell me what are you gonna do?
Suck up the praise
End of a meaningless day
The next one will be strictly the same
Plunge in your easy-chair: Salvation is only one mouse-click away