Who said it has to be like this
Who changed the rules while
the dice were on the table, who
confiscated tomorrow
Who's figured you in as a cost
Buy and sell creeps into
your nervous system
Walking upright
isn't automatic anymore
In the end only one thing to resist:
Staying behind and sitting
in a dingy kitchen streaked with grease
when the day has caved in
when the light crawls on all fours
through junk and slag-heaps
Drinking bitter coffee full of grounds
metallic on your lips
and no longer waiting
for the day when you won't be subject
to administration