A Symptom of Surveillance

The TV’s got your digits; the phone always knows when you’re in.
Amazon’s got a habit, one that a search engine can’t kick.
When you drive your car at night, paranoia, paranoia, paranoia always bites.
Even on your mobile phone, they know your route home.

On the night line as the train takes you home, you forgot to buy a ticket – perhaps a rebellion.
The conductors got a wink; he never stops to think…
That they’ve got his inside leg, shoes, tie and neck.

Amongst some other things.

So, the “man” he has a record, kept with strict instructions,
“Do not open unless advised”.
But every day it’s the same, advised in a different way,
To keep close scrutiny.

The doctor, he’s the same – much like the banker, the landlord and the state.
Casting glances with keeping eyes, waiting for the day.
Its paranoia once again, I know, I know it just the same.
But don’t you see them watching, trying to place the blame?

What was it the bible said?
“No one can buy or sell unless he has the mark, that is, the name of the beast or the number of its name.”
It’s just vaudeville. Keep your eyes on the cheap seats;
if you think they’re watching you, you’re probably right.

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