And Moloch, for
@auryn_macmillan
What great bloody sphinx of concrete and aluminium cracked open their noggins and scoffed the lot? Brains, dreams, imagination, the whole bloody works? What sort of mongrel does that, eh?
Moloch! Thatâs who. Moloch! Beinâ lonely as a shag on a rock! Filth! Ugliness, the face-like-a-dropped-pie kind! Wheelie bins overflowin', bin chickens fightin' over the scraps, and not a brass razoo to rub together! Little tackers screamin' blue murder under the stairs! Young blokes bawlin' their eyes out in the barracks! Old codgers sittin' in the park, havin' a quiet bloody sook!
Moloch! Moloch! Moloch the nightmare ya never wake up from! Moloch with no love in him, cold as a mother-in-lawâs kiss! Moloch livinâ in yer noggin! Moloch the hanginâ judge, passinâ sentence on every bloke that walks past!
Moloch the lock-up nobody can make head nor tail of! Moloch the skull-ân-crossbones slammer without a soul in the joint, and a Parliament House of sorrows, every galah in it flappinâ their gums! Moloch whose buildings are the verdict, every brick of âem! Moloch the bloody great rock of a stoush, with the young blokes cominâ home in boxes! Moloch the pollies, standinâ about like stunned mullets! Talk about a pack of drongos.
Moloch whose mind is nothinâ but machinery, cogs ân pistons all the way down! Moloch with the folding stuff pumpinâ through his veins where the blood oughta be! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies! Moloch whose chest is a dynamo that eats its own kind! Moloch whose ear is a grave with the smoke still cominâ off it!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand windows and not one of the bastards can see a thing! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand down the long streets like Jehovahs, God after God after God, no end to âem! Moloch whose factories dream ân croak away in the fog like frogs in a dam! Moloch whose smokestacks ân aerials sit on top of the Big Smoke like a crown, while it chokes in its own smog!
Moloch whose love is oil ân stone and never runs out! Moloch whose soul is the power lines ân the banks! Moloch whoâs so stony broke, genius just haunts the place like a ghost! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of hydrogen thatâs never had a root in its life! Moloch whose name, and get this, is the Mind!
Moloch, and Iâm sittinâ in the heartless prick on me Pat Malone! Moloch, and in him I dream of Angels! Off me rocker in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Not a skerrick of love, not a bloke to call me own, in Moloch!
Moloch who got into me soul when I was a nipper! Moloch, and in him Iâm a mind with no body to hang it on! Moloch who spooked the natural joy clean outta me, scared me stiff! Moloch Iâm walkinâ out on! Wake up in Moloch, mate! Light pourinâ outta the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot units, stacked up like battery hens! burbs ya canât even see! treasuries picked down to the bones! blind capitals! industries straight outta hell! whole nations like ghosts! loony bins nobody can knock down! granite cocks! bombs the size of a house! The whole flaminâ works!
They busted their guts liftinâ Moloch up to Heaven! Footpaths, trees, wirelesses, tonnes of the stuff! liftinâ the city up to Heaven, and Heavenâs real, mate, itâs all round us, everywhere ya look!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the lot of it gone down the American river, washed out to sea!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of touchy-feely bulldust!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips ân crucifixions! gone down in the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! Despairs! Ten years of screaminâ like animals, and blokes toppinâ themselves! Minds! Brand-spankinâ-new loves! A mad generation! smashed up on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw the lot! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They said hooroo! They jumped off the roof! off to be on their own! wavinâ! carryinâ flowers! Down the river! out into the street! Fair breaks yer heart, that does.