Grid Rhythm
Overhead the white tube pulse
Eighty hertz against my neck
Thirty seconds slow the rhythm
Thirty seconds force the rush
Lens mounted in the corner
Watching every pulse of skin
Management has set the pattern
My pulse belongs to them
Current in the wire
Current in the wire
They control the speed
They control the speed
Down upon the railway tile
Winter wind across the track
Cold glass eye above the platform
Counting every breath I take
Overhead the signals changes
Blood obeys the ceiling grid
Standing at the edge of iron
Waiting for the dark arrival
Current in the wire
Current in the wire
They control the speed
They control the speed
Pulse rate drops,
pulse rate climbs Zero choices left
to make
White light burning through the skull
Standing on the threshold edge
Current in the wire
Current in the wire
They control the speed
Make the rhythm slow