As the alley ends I see a sign
The neon glow of "WhAt It Is"
bright enough to trap an eye
brick walls and weeds on a street
holes in a fence and trash at my feet
alien graffiti I can somehow read
This city it bleeds this city it needs
I get to the doors I open them up
men dressed as shapes just living it up
"where are the nuestions" I say through my teeth
each one of their necks snapped towards me
they smoothly slide across the room
"picking bones is for dogs the beef ends with you"
I left and I felt followed