It's the heart which paints the world red,
It's the same heart which makes you dead.

It's the heart which makes you smile, 
It's the same heart which makes you bleed every while .

It's the heart which makes you dream, 
It's the same heart which makes you cry and scream. 

I wonder whether the heart is loud or quite , 
but I am sure it's a blend of black and white .

The black and white Heart !

All *'the Man'* has to do
is get the ball rolling:
*we'll* handle the rest.

*That's* the grotesque beauty of it.
*That's* why we're called a *System*.