Out of the darkness,
Out of the lies,
Out of repression
And citizens' cries,
Out of the empty,
Out of the plain,
Out of depression
And out of restraint,
Came Winston Smith,
So whole and so new,
So unused to feeling,
Catharsis, and truth,
Tired of falling
Without knowing why
Out from his kneeling
And up to the sky,
Clasping a note from
Someone he hates
Watching a hanging,
Reeling, he waits,
Waits for the girl
Sash round her waist,
Dreaming of banging
And being debased,
Dreams of forever,
Crowded with light,
Opens the gate
And enters with fright;
An act of rebellion,
She quickly strips down,
A beautiful spate
Of semen and sound
Erupts from his soul
And joins it with hers,
Memories long
Kept in darkness it stirs,
Quiets his fears,
Wakens his heart,
Feeling so wrong
It tears him apart,
Then he's rebuilt
Fin'lly content,
Knowing his life was
Fairly well spent;
Into the shop
Where Winston is sound
Furniture rife with
Beauty abound,
"Here comes a candle
To light you to bed,
Here comes a chopper
To chop off your head,"
Back through the darkness,
Back into Hell,
Coils of copper,
Porcelain cell,
Into the prison,
Into the fear,
Into the mis'ry,
To the austere,
Trembling with sadness,
Love and regret
Fall into hist'ry
Just a vignette,
Just as they wanted,
Winston gives in,
Watching O'Brien
As he ascends;
In one last effort
Winston recoils,
But like Ixion
Winston's skin boils
-
Though they had dreamt of surviving together,
The Party's boot stamps on their faces forever.
Though he's released, Winston's not free
Under the spreading
Chestnut tree.