Fury Feeds the Dying Star

I'm here for the seven year revolution
and I have front-row seats

the fury is my graphite-tipped rods
the supernova in my brain is reactor number four
and with an unholy scream into the Ukrainian night sky
the workers' town will never be the same again

infuriate me
epiphanise me
humanify me

if I do not find the right words here
then I will look elsewhere
over and over
until my eyes bleed
until my ears suppurate
until my anger burns out
in ten hundred thousand years

give me back my humanity
give me back what is mine by rights
give me it back --
I will take it

that AZ-5 is a mistake,
      don't push
      your luck.

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