A Clockwork Orange - What’s it going to be then, eh?

[Intro] what’s it going to be then, eh? me and my droogs in the Korova, on the chemless glow of milk-plus. horrorshow, O my brothers. [Verse 1] four of us, all in white. bowler hats, no shame in the night. degrading the town with a grin in the eye, ultraviolence flickering, clean as a lie. the old veck on the bench, the smeck and the fear, the young devotchkas, the sneer in the ear. in-out, in-out — a right horror show, and I’m laughing all the while. [Pre-Chorus] then the betrayers come close, then the uniformed room, then the door with its lock and its cold bureaucratic bloom. the experiment starts, the lids are held down, and the sickness of goodness is poured through the sound. [Chorus] am i a clockwork orange, an orange wound up and wound?! a bit of the old in-out, with my free will unbound?! “i was cured, all right,” but who cured the soul? you can hammer the flesh, but you never own the whole. what’s it going to be then, eh? [Verse 2] Ludwig Van. the ninth comes on like a razor in the brain. my droogs are gone. the streets feel wrong. every bright old urge comes back as pain. the sickness of music, the sickness of men, the chaplains, the prisons, the state and the pen. “a nice warm feelin’,” but it curdles to dust, and choice itself cracks in the machinery’s rust. [Bridge] “goodness is something chosen.” that’s the trick of the press, but what is a good if you train it from less? my eyes on the screen, my body says no, and the son of the beast in my innards says so. the room turns high, the window turns bright, and Beethoven bites like a knife in the night. stop it! stop it! [Final Chorus] am i a clockwork orange, an orange wound up and wound?! a bit of the old in-out, with my free will unbound?! “i was cured, all right,” but who cured the soul? you can hammer the flesh, but you never own the whole. what’s it going to be then, eh? [Outro] oh my brothers... i was cured all right. what’s it going to be then, eh?