I was hardly thinking when I entered the acropolis
The windy roads talked of carefree days, I was to last
At last, my chance came in the talk of strangers in cinema pans and wave cuts
Interfaced, by the aversion to cloudy vision, I adjusted my glasses
Walking among others, could not be more perusing and anticipating
The dissipating dreariness was really smothering my look for a change
Yesteryears shifted by my tainted feeling of flighting writes, and unopened letters
The mailman checks my mail in the mailbox and the ordinariness of things
Committing to the vapid and the milk and closeted wine, in the shepherd's column
My hands were painted with writer's ink, the thoughts just kept flowing
In the rainmaker writer, it was a syllable of doubt and dough, that I was looking at a compensation or stay
The company wasn't hard to come by, the room was charged quarters
In the middle, there was a trapdoor and I felt drawn and quartered
Garrulous crowds talked of Garibaldi, Aristotle, and praise was the talk of the century
Mephistopheles has become somewhat of an errant symbol of a syllogism with your sins
One leads to the other, and follows the posterior, laying logos for following the argument
The argument is not something that writes in my journal, but, it crossed my mind, anyway.


Voracious readers, devoted people, and a couple of friends made my stay, a welcoming farm
Likewise, life's not picket-fences, gambling, drunkenness and staying alive
It's living life to it's fullest and appreciating each moment like it's your last class in life
At some point, philosophy can be unspeakably lame
Well, your ambitions are lame too, and women need to trample over
Just tramping a few, could get you shiny shoes in this American dream
We have divorced ourselves from the idea of nationalism, and I'm sure we make good citizens
I am not even sure why entered the acropolis, as it does not accept speakers like the colosseum
Crossing paths and circling winds were once where crossed swords in history
No, I'm in Rome and looking at the short nightcaps and scenic speakeasy, my mind is wasted on women
But, books and bookers and fantastic factotums who service my every need
Once, they used to shine my car, as I walked among Hollywood stars
Now, I live with my estranged wife and intermittent wives, who are feral and feline
I might even call some of the lithe, but, you're on my mind
Smelling the paint off some of them reminds me of your person laconic and pale
Some of these girls were rather beautiful, I must say, but, the heart was lost with you
Nursing your every need and caring for you, was the biggest burden
That I learned to cherish, and the love was unreal
It was fading like the wind catching me in those eyes
The first sight was love, and now I see you every day as a routine
In the hospice, hoping cancer doesn't spread in the acropolis
Polished ceilings and hovering over us are towering structures, and love is no object
Love is an ordeal, and it takes hard work and effort
These days in this short day in the life of the caring girl, the buildings, and the houses
Living in this city remains all dead, but, empty
Dying in this city remains all dead, but, dying seems more real with
As all this fame, is make-believe
This acropolis is mortal
You are immortal, busy leaving a good feeling
Which is something I can believe in, even through existential crises