I thanked god for my Taco Bell

And waited for you to speak

I got taller as you cried in my arms

I think they shorted me baby

The moon's a coward tonight

He lets clouds in bed and freezes as they pass him by

Stick your fork in the socket

Your eyes are a speckled green lightning

And your hair is erected like skyscrapers in the big city

All on my own, I wander into the poorly lit Bar of America

I find dream lovers and myself a fair heir to that mans throne

I sit in haste although I have nowhere to be , no one to greet

A maiden turns her head to me,

Expecting her to speak, I prepare a question about her lineage

She remains silent as a politician's mistress and dresses as such

I focus my eyes down to the floor as the barkeep drops glass

A family tree of poison spreads through the floor, creeping to her shoe

She offers me a drink called "i think I know your father" and is confused when I reply "no, thanks."

As my body is pulled from the inside to the outer brick, a short-haired phantom pulls on a smoke as the carcinogens seep out through her skirt

Nice weather you're having

Transparent red fills the street above my battered shell

I lie to myself as I lie on pavement

"My time has yet to come"  I say

"I'm still with myself"

But everyone crowding the nightcrawler's bar knows they are on the way out.