Hunters

We have you on file -
your movements are no mystery
you have nothing to tell
that's smarter than our sophistry.

Sharp eyes, fortune tellers advise
change your name
to something with more spice,
kill your idols, play insane.

The new is the new 'new'
that was already old, say,
ten minutes ago, see us throw
a spinball, see if you can hit it away.

Turning circle, swimming-pool girl,
we'll make you regret those curves,
we'll gild your slim legs, thrill
against thrill, fill with urge.

Your 'subcultures' tingle,
we like them elusive, spray them on walls
mash up voices, image, in a tangle;
dreadlocks, dirty denim, non-specific revolution call.

Global harmony, racially mixed party of friends
(good looking, dressed right),
let's not get too specific, this could be anyland -
this is what you fought for, so fight.