He's a wretch and Like all the rest he thinks There's time to make trouble And time to make a mess He says "Punch in, automate Stomp on, stamp out" Mechanized and traumatized He's tapping things obsessively Finds his boss' office and tears it apart Torches the evidence Quits his job Voltage highways Currents moving constantly Blissed out and circuit bent He calls upon his majesty Anxious electric Taps into the registry A challenge to the monolith The obelisk is posturing Sleeping monsters rise Ransacks junktown Gla**-eyed Ogre Builds himself an armory Lives like a hammer ((a vulgar diplomacy)) A new kind of prophet A new kind of tyranny A new kind of trauma A new aristocracy Finds every flaw in the eyes of his enemies Wages war and flies his flag Prelude to the coming of A new machine metropolis