Right hand raised
The left plants stickers
Picking out the deviant
A choice of colours, inclinations
Factions that see only red
He wants them dead
He kills them in his mirror when it's dark
And when he thinks that no one is looking
He spreads the spraypaint and leaves his mark
Swastikas shout out from walls
They're tattooed on a million fists
Clenched together, safe in numbers
Waving from the precipice
Fodder! Plod on down your icy path
A cannon is waiting for the fodder
Enlightenment comes with a blast.
A bang. A bangabangabang...
Another place
A different story
Fingers play with stale cigars
Business creeks, the warehouse leaks
The chairman sold his daughter's car
He's reading charts and sharpening knives
For cutting when the time seems right
For him alone.
No pause for mercy if the victim's out of sight
Equality is a word for cranks
To shout out as the batons swing
It's beautiful in theory
He knows it's not for him
He's got his fodder!
In higher places, clocks chime
For the meeting of the lords
They stay discreet as guilty secrets
Cause no shame behind closed doors
A portion for the megabomb
A portion for the queen
Can't forget the army or the law
'cos they have to keep the cities clean
And sure they know they'll get their way
As protests echo from the streets
(The blood is thicker from the streets)
His hired guns and sheets of armor
Gives them shelter through the heat!
The fodder...
But there are other bullets, other walls
Where justice cries in shiny red
Where reason dies and passion burns
Persuasion's just a hole in the head
Purges after midnight
There's no discretion in the mass
A volley
A silence as they cover up the mess
Don't kid yourself
You're civilized, it could happen anywhere
In choking cities, steaming jungles
Maybe even here.