"Small Black Flowers That Grow In The Sky" as written by and Bradfield/edwards/jones/moore....
You have your very own number
They dress your cage in its nature
Once you roared now you just grunt lame
Pace around pathetic pound games
want to get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
want to get out in here you're bred dead quick
For the outside
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
They drag sticks along your walls
Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl
Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elders
Environment not yours you see through it all
want to get out won't miss you sensaround
Carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
want to get out in here you're bred dead quick
For the outside
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
Here chewing your tail is joy
They dress your cage in its nature
Once you roared now you just grunt lame
Pace around pathetic pound games
want to get out won't miss you sensaround
To carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
want to get out in here you're bred dead quick
For the outside
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
They drag sticks along your walls
Harvest your ovaries dead mothers crawl
Here comes warden, Christ, temple, elders
Environment not yours you see through it all
want to get out won't miss you sensaround
Carry your own dead to swing your tyre tricks
want to get out in here you're bred dead quick
For the outside
The small black flowers that grow in the sky
Here chewing your tail is joy
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Any attempt to relate it to human life is purely coincidental (but probably very apt).
beautiful.
"Here chewing your tail is joy"... like a pig in a farm would do.
"Once you roared now you just grunt lame"
"You have your very own number"
You're just another component in the system - nothing more than 'another number' to the machines
"They dress your cage in it's nature"
Those trapped in the Matrix see an environment that they see their own - that of 20th century Earth, yet they are still caged here by their oppressors. It's all an illusion.
"Once you roared now you just grunt lame"
Before the machines came the human race ruled the earth. Now they are condemned to simply imititate everyday life
"Pace around pathetic pound games"
The main activity in most people's lifes - making money. In a capitalist society it's necessary for survival, whether you get it through work or dole payments. But in the Matrix it is just a game - nothing actually matters because nothing is real
This is the epitomy of despair, one of the most beautiful things the manics have ever done- and without a single guitar.