I’m the part that fits here, one person states.
I’m the part that fits there, another person declares.
I’m the part that goes left, somebody yells.
I’m the part that goes right, someone else sighs.
Society is a machine,
and to make it run smoothly,
we need grease.
Who are the agents who do not fit anywhere
and yet, they are needed everywhere?
Who are the agents who do not carry labels
and yet, they are obedient to their Lord?
Don’t join the army.
Don’t join the party.
Be in the Club,
which is not defined
detectable by the Eye.