Allow me to introduce you to the scene:
Empty rooms with padlocked portals
Absconding the identities of the small town
Metropolis.
Crawling through it's empty corridors;
The syrupy melodies, of muddy songs,
Humming themselves.
I see the earth raining into the clouds.
The bone marrow
Injustice bleeds through the Kevlar canvas
Calling out to severed limbs
(of porcelain trees)
On secluded islands, crowded by
ten-thousand concrete angels.
Ten-
Thousand.
"COME ONE COME ALL"
"PREPARE TO BE AMAZED!"
Cries the vulture on the Master
Of ceremonies shoulder, as he circles
The empty bleachers in Padlocked rooms.
Erogenous melodies now;
Creak through the cracks of the hardwood
Floors, whitewashed seven times over.
Is the television too loud, masking the tune that's
Cascading through the room?
The nocturnal sun goes to sleep at night
Tonight.
Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock.
The grandfather clock awaits Its final
Stroke.
The overwhelming smell of bathtub
Moonshine, awakens the vanity,
And drowns royal dignity.
Tell the truth,
You have heard this story one million times now.
The ending is ALWAYS THE SAME.
And yet the tape is rewound
And fastened to our eyeballs.