Tired of the barbed wire and the scratching of brambles,
speaking as one who rambles on and on
and what's for dinner, Mother?

I need to have a system noncritical of the system that I'm stored in, that we're all boxed in, that toxic anomaly which we know as normality, see what's happening to me?
the fences are closing in on me
the pen's against me
I'm dividing,
the cell I survive in is being demolished,
they'll get rid of me and probably in
Millwall Dock
but I'll have dead gangsters for company
so no worry really.