There was a disintegration of walls
That have bound and held for years
I, in my light pink mink fur, tell stories

Have you heard of the brick,
that just sits on street corners and outside of old buildings
It's always the same ******* brick

In my new city the traffic lulls nightly
After dark, the streetlights don't hold
Their safety is a decoration, like the snow is

I tried to trace back roots of life
I ended at the sun, so why not, should I end
Be the light that made me?