In a room of bright lights and dull ideas
Shiny shoes dance a dance contrived
Shuffling a shimmy to catch the eye
Smiling synthetic smiles
Spewing their speil
Roll up roll up
Roll over
Show me the light
Gadgets and gizmos
Those must get fads
That define what we are
These be our dreams and asperations
Sleepwalking through an imagination void
We are vunerable to suggestion
And stupendously polite
No seems too final
So they confuse and contort
Till we concure
They have their reasons
Profit their god
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem