A timber night in a dark way can't stay for long
plowed down, scorched down  - must be torn down
kings of city pipes, dusty concrete heirlooms, read a bible to sleep

Wake in the morning, sun rays shine through dust ridden books
Morals, condoned in heart shaped smoke clouds

Greed's arms will swell rejecting midnights' hiss' "Where will they live?"
'Sirrrrrrrr' 'Homeeee'...... Floating like gas particles, words lost.
A stand alone will die to unknown prosperity
ropes straggle helpless branches
Clenching their last breathes, the weeping skies sit silently

Hateful hateful hunger, feeding the bodies thirst

Our midnight Cowboy song goes: Manufactured green, leaving scorched earth barren, unwritten torch, unseen

For we saw what we wanted to.