| 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 |
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