Don't
Let Them Take You
To Room 101
Down the corridor, in the dark, there's a room
Where the end of your dreams comes to pass
Where the night swallows day and all hope fades away
And you kneel on the shards of black glass.
Where they take you when you don't obey
When you stand up for reason and right
Where the tormentors meet you to play
And you have no more strength for the fight.
In a house without freedom on a cruel city street
With no knowledge of good or of bad
Where the men march like puppets to a song they can't sing
In a world, like a nightmare, gone mad.
We've seen them take the dissidents there
Heard them scream for long hour after hour
We've cleaned up the blood of the penitents
Who gave in to the power of Power.
Up high on the hill, there's a tower
That listens to every breath that you breathe
Records all your thoughts and reports them
And then runs them through a memory sieve.
They cannot have rebellion here
They cannot take the chance
Before joy takes hold and you've grown old
They take your song and dance.
And all the armies of innocent men
To war and death, they run
They tell us we must kill and die
Till all the world is One.
But if you dare and if you care
They knock you to your knees
You must conform or you will harm
The other worker bees.
So they take you to the house of pain
And all your memories skewer
Regard them with their cold dead eyes
And replace all that was pure.
Our brother was one, such as this
With dreams and schemes and plans
He was a rebel, wayward, bold
Who disdained their demands.
They took him in the dead of night
They put him in a cage
With hungry rats to claw his eyes
He howled away his rage.
So he's a conformed comrade now
His orders take, with pride
His body marches with the rest
But there's no one inside.
They took his soul in room 101
And ground it in to dust
So we all do our best to exist
Like the leaders say we must.
There is no place for private thought
Or feelings that upset
We must rewire our feeble brains
Or they'll make us regret.
And all our lives, we work and die
For the leaders that we trust
And give our all to that great Call
Until they're through with us.
Still, in the night, when it is quiet
We whisper in the gloom
Ask questions till someone shushes us
With a reminder of "the Room."
Down the corridor, in the dark, in the house
Where the tormentors laugh at our fear
They know we will do whatsoever they say
For there are no men living here.
We are just numbers, we have no names
We have no dreams left to dream
They've erased all our minds, made us willing and blind
But they can't make us forget how to scream.