It grows, it grows, like a cancer it grows.
Can you feel it? Do you know what it is?
Inside you, man, do you know what beast it is that growls and grows within you. That seethes and glowers from hooded eyes, undirected, uncomprehended rage.
The endless frustration of your life. Banging your head on a wall. Running to stand still. A rat in a maze with no exits, no cheese. Just more rats like you, ready to tear each other open.
The cry of rage always at the back of your throat. A dozen pints lets it slip, grappling in the gutter with your mirror image.
A bottle is thrown. A bin smashes a shop window. A joy within, a broad grin, don’t know why, don’t care. Who cares anymore, when the cars are burning and all the stuff you ever wanted is flowing from a smashed store front.
Then is not the time to ponder social exclusion issues, to think about fiscal policy, and all those things, all that talk. Not the time to say to yourself, billionaires are stealing millions more. Oil executives poison entire seas and get nothing more than a change in job description. These are not your concerns, not when the beast howls and demands fire and blood, to wantonly destroy the city, THEIR city.
For in the end, what is there to loose.