the closet, and even that imaginary, now you're really in the
fog! Moloch whose Moloch whose factories dream and croak in the fog!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose buildings are
judgment! Moloch the heavy crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of
sorrows! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose soul
is electricity and banks! Moloch whose breast is a cannibal
dynamo! streets like endless