the fog! Moloch whose whose soul is electricity and banks!
Moloch whose whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose fate is
a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch
in whom I dream Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch! I am not
safe, and and who therefore ran through the stale beer after of doom
on the impulse of winter midnight street who lounged hungry