I walk down a street of overplayed love songs,
and sappy two-step sex coons
Crying can be heard behind factory curfews,
and I was the obvious whore
They dance with a needle nose ghost God,
and paint their plauges up against themselves
Next to steamstack heart attacks lies the pedestrain pistol strut,
and signs demanding "eat the powdercake revolver!"

When mugshot Captain's man our battleships,
the land dwellers will puree' the restless
These streets seem ever numbing
"Happy Halloween"
As I geture down side streets,
I'm welcomed to a land of puke and blood
Concrete whincing: "when fucking has lost its carnivorous fun,
the flower children will start to cough up attention"

Let's parade around town
Let's seep inside out
Come and get me nightmares
I'll turn tricks and fireflies for hire

The ext reads "Dracula's neck"
and I produce silicon sweat.
The asphalt jungle disguises its' condolences,
so come and get me handheld operator.

The Doctor's of the town clone their limbs,
and shower in their sleep
The Stylists in their cologne baths,
sculp flesh daydreams.
The Singers in their sonic hammocks,
coat the town in audible vernacular
And The Everyday Person in their ambulance dance,
parade simple gestures and thunderclaps.

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