The Morning in America is dark and cold,
But I’m no regular New York Soul,
Yet recently I’ve hit an All Time Low,
Things might get better, Maybe I Don’t Know,
But last night I Woke the F**K Up,
The Good in Me is stirring up,
The Weight of the World is Overwhelming,
I’ll just be a Robot, like the 80s Film,
I see the Guillotine dropping fast,
The Hand of God saved me at last,
He Is Still the Same, I finally found that out.
I begin to truly grasp the Human condition,
Why we all want, why we all need Fashion.

From True Love To Stranger I had never Met,
From Midnight Muse To morning Regret,
Love That once bloomed turned into a thorn in my side,
The Spark Once felt raged into a flame that Burnt Me To a crisp.