Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe
deposited by a silverish extrinsic craft,
And whilst he is curious what to do
He is asked to gala his pass
Or pay an fast one off fine
At a hard currency vending machine of his choice
And they are checking all the time
On his irises frontage and voice.

And of track they discovery that he is not,
They hit upon he only cannot be there,
Although he seems as if he is visible,
And has safekeeping and toes and hair,
If he is not on the Great Data Bank,
He simply and merely cannot be,
He is not recorded and he is not ranked
He is for sure not approaching you and me.

So they cant confine him in custody
But they do not have to let him go
He never ever happened, period
So who can ever tell, or cognise.
So on a friendless counter in muted shade
He sits unsocial and unremarked,
Wondering what games they play,
Against the conditions of the parcel of land.

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And so, are we conscionable the opposite,
Are we all consigned to invisible files,
Are machines determinative who we are,
Where we live, and once we smile,
Is nought a solid and actual fact,
Unless electronic computer correlate true,
And should your written account go into error,
How can you prove, you are really you.

How do you corroborate yourself for a loan,
If your superior gets compromised,
How do you turn over all their data,
Making you a unfortunate in others eyes,
You may clutch packages of validity,
They may tight-fistedly cognize its you,
Unless their convention grants absolution,
There is nothing they can say or do.

So unless we are verifiable as sound,
And our photograph assuages Superhal,
No one will of all time trust us again,
No one will of all time privation to be our pal,
But this is not like yesteryear,
When a express enquiry cleared your name,
Your questions are simply registered,
And you vindicatory get told how to protest.

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This communication finds you
Stranded on that one
A the flicks musical

Complaints are collated and quantified,
They are transverse filed and referenced,
You essential never lose this number,
And you must never help yourself to offence,
You are regularly adjourned,
Or stirred to yet other floor,
In the confidence that you will falter,
From all that has away beforehand.

Meanwhile youre mugged, not statistically,
Contract MRSA, but its not on file,
Your children cannot read or write,
But their testimonial incline a smile,
You e'er hit potholes that dont exist,
To bar ready and waiting on trains that dont arrive,
But whose flexitimes turn out you missed,
The solitary one deferred out of cardinal v.

You cry out to be heard aloud,
But the echoes make fun of your voice,
You cannot spend the telephone,
Cant circumferential implemented menus of choice,
Cannot association a free quality being,
By department, baptize or reason,
All this evolved resembling a dripping tap,
Season upon big brother period of time.

Then one day close in solitude,
Your will to try almost quenched,
There is the whispered of the untrusty park,
There is the man upon the bench,
Who looks at you knowingly,
And asks you if you ever read,
And says Then I am Kafka,
You Must Tell Me What You Need.

So He went up to their doors,
The Nameless Man with Faceless Face,
And whiskery them in their holy den,
Their lavish venerable and dedicated place,
And caused double-dyed consternation,
As he any was not really there,
Or so in actual fact plainly existed,
Solidly seated silent in his bench.

So they asked him what he would want,
If he were legitimate and not mere illusion,
For his coming out was so inopportune,
His human face and features effort confusion,
His DNA was an embarrassment,
Never born, nor listed, nor created,
Never taxed, treated, nor arrested,
Never acceptance a non pedagogy.

So he stood up to his replete height,
And drew up his deepest breath,
That ready-made him look immortal,
And ready-made them all disquiet death,
And his mighty voice resounded,
So by a long chalk the walls maintained his words,
We want to be individuals again
We privation to utter and to be heard,
We deprivation our sound to really matter,
And we privation to perceive no more lies,
We deprivation appearance sweptback away,
Replaced by authority of the wise,
We want joint sense to prevail,
And not applied math subterfuge,
Which tries to tell us its all ok,
When we cognize it essential improve,
We want you to renounce and take,
Your machines and Mandarins away,
And we want it through immediately,
Oh Yes, we poorness it through with present.

Or other I will brightness in premier time,
And after all will see its me,
The man who is not Kafka,
The man who but cannot be,
Then where will your believability go,
Will they ever listen in to your pleas.
No, far improved for you to go now,
And go off sincerity to me.

And they went distant in disarray,
Whilst he publicised a new era,
No one knew who the hellhole he was,
But yet everything seemed clearer,
Everything was as it appeared,
Nothing hidden, no more than of the lies,
And no one filed his disappearance,
When he to finish disappeared our skies.

They can media us its always fine,
Statistic turn out what cannot be true,
They can try to warrant their lies,
Attempt to atomizer what went before in two,
They may perceive us all as fools,
Force fed on baseless cleansing agent opera goals,
But cannot for eternity ownership our minds,
Nor accept they own our souls,
For Long term lies have multiplied,
And now are resonant insincere and hollow,
What seemed so tenable yesterday
Will be disproved upon the morrow,
And near these unremitting lies surfacing,
Just Like The Man Who Could Not Be,
The correctness will regularly go visible,
And the correctness will set us for nothing.



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