Ode of the Cog
They say that time heals all things
They say you can always forget
But the smiles and the tears across the years
They twist my heartstrings yet
She's beautiful
It's clear
I've thought things that have sealed my fate
To think in the first place is folly
By the time it's been done, it's too late
But there are immutabilities in this world
Facts, impossible to be changed later
And so, if thought itself is death
Why not set pen to paper?
To the future, or to the past. To a time when thought is free
I - we - the dead act as your omen. Salutations! Greetings!
You've already granted me my existence; one truth, so please allow me one more
Please. Oh God, please do still accept that two plus two is four
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
Rewrite the past till the truth cannot last
She is my constant, my truth
My sole reprieve
From the onslaught of bullshit that bastard Big Brother's
Been belittling me to believe
She's a disease to the Party
A blight
A slut
Corrupt to the core
I scarcely think I could ever love her more
Julia, she's smarter than I
She knows just as well, we are not here
We don't exist, we've been struck from this list
Under the boot, our very life is smeared
But if I could just put out one truth
So that the rains of hope could once more pour
The elden could ingrain in the youth of the future
That two plus two is four
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's
When will you pay me? Say the bells of St. Bailey's
When God's head is hauled, say the bells of St. Paul's
But God knows God's dead, said the voice in your head
I recognized that voice, though I'd not before heard what he said
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
They can't get to your heart
WAR IS PEACE
The law of gravity is nonsense
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
Do you know how long you've been here?
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?
Four
No. How many fingers, please?
Four... Four! What else could I say?
Room 101
Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me
The chestnuts fall like autumn leaves
The chestnut toils. The chestnut breathes
The Chestnut hosts me. The barman loathes
One cup of gin. Three dashes of cloves
The bullet is coming. The gun's already shot
I thought that they would lose. They will not
But as the bullet hits my head, in one brief moment of lucidity
Merely seconds before my corpse-to-be hits the floor
My subconscious, nearly dead, clings to one last chance at Victory
Just as those cigarettes whose stench clings to the whore
It's simple, what's been said cannot rewrite our human history
Our lives, our deaths, our fights, our pains, our wars
And so, under my final breath, knowing full well there's none to listen to me
I utter
Two plus two is five
Five
Five
Five
Five?
Or is that what you want to hear?
Well too bad, swine, the end is near
Our passion breeds dissension
Perhaps in a thousand years
The meek will rise to the tune of a tide
That washes clean this veneer
The waters of truth will run through you
The waters of truth will run clear
You think that a rat like you can scare me
With threats of your own kind?
I may not be the smoothest cog in the machine
But I'm sure not fucking blind
I am thought
I'm the prole
I'm the attack
I'm the rebellion
I'm the whore
And as the lights in my eyes fade to black
I'll scream
TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR
Look. I hate purity
I hate goodness
I don't want virtue to exist anywhere
I want everyone corrupt
Well, I ought to suit you
I'm corrupt to the core
They say you can always forget
But the smiles and the tears across the years
They twist my heartstrings yet
She's beautiful
It's clear
I've thought things that have sealed my fate
To think in the first place is folly
By the time it's been done, it's too late
But there are immutabilities in this world
Facts, impossible to be changed later
And so, if thought itself is death
Why not set pen to paper?
To the future, or to the past. To a time when thought is free
I - we - the dead act as your omen. Salutations! Greetings!
You've already granted me my existence; one truth, so please allow me one more
Please. Oh God, please do still accept that two plus two is four
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
Rewrite the past till the truth cannot last
She is my constant, my truth
My sole reprieve
From the onslaught of bullshit that bastard Big Brother's
Been belittling me to believe
She's a disease to the Party
A blight
A slut
Corrupt to the core
I scarcely think I could ever love her more
Julia, she's smarter than I
She knows just as well, we are not here
We don't exist, we've been struck from this list
Under the boot, our very life is smeared
But if I could just put out one truth
So that the rains of hope could once more pour
The elden could ingrain in the youth of the future
That two plus two is four
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's
You owe me five farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's
When will you pay me? Say the bells of St. Bailey's
When God's head is hauled, say the bells of St. Paul's
But God knows God's dead, said the voice in your head
I recognized that voice, though I'd not before heard what he said
Here comes a candle to light you to bed
And here comes a chopper to chop off your head!
They can't get to your heart
WAR IS PEACE
The law of gravity is nonsense
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
Do you know how long you've been here?
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?
Four
No. How many fingers, please?
Four... Four! What else could I say?
Room 101
Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me
The chestnuts fall like autumn leaves
The chestnut toils. The chestnut breathes
The Chestnut hosts me. The barman loathes
One cup of gin. Three dashes of cloves
The bullet is coming. The gun's already shot
I thought that they would lose. They will not
But as the bullet hits my head, in one brief moment of lucidity
Merely seconds before my corpse-to-be hits the floor
My subconscious, nearly dead, clings to one last chance at Victory
Just as those cigarettes whose stench clings to the whore
It's simple, what's been said cannot rewrite our human history
Our lives, our deaths, our fights, our pains, our wars
And so, under my final breath, knowing full well there's none to listen to me
I utter
Two plus two is five
Five
Five
Five
Five?
Or is that what you want to hear?
Well too bad, swine, the end is near
Our passion breeds dissension
Perhaps in a thousand years
The meek will rise to the tune of a tide
That washes clean this veneer
The waters of truth will run through you
The waters of truth will run clear
You think that a rat like you can scare me
With threats of your own kind?
I may not be the smoothest cog in the machine
But I'm sure not fucking blind
I am thought
I'm the prole
I'm the attack
I'm the rebellion
I'm the whore
And as the lights in my eyes fade to black
I'll scream
TWO PLUS TWO IS FOUR
Look. I hate purity
I hate goodness
I don't want virtue to exist anywhere
I want everyone corrupt
Well, I ought to suit you
I'm corrupt to the core
Credits
Writer(s): Todd Daffy
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