Skyscrapers look at them from above,
the man-made devils and the man-served Gods.

Dots in the streets - they have turned into ants,
they will not know that they've lived or died.

Skyscrapers shelter their deepest fears,
their human feelings, erased, strangled, killed.

They make *** only to get rid of lust.
They don't think of the future, they don't know the past.

This big city mess - their holy mass.
The ants will vanished, skyscrapers will last.

Maybe the reason stars are disappearing from the sky
Is because we pluck them one by one, like flowers
And place them in skyscrapers, celestial floral arrangements
Close enough to touch

Manhattan bathes in lilac-stained dawn,
patiently waiting for a new day to form.
Skyscrapers tickled by the flicker of confused lights
on
or
off?
Night
or
day?
they wonder
whilst light meets dark,
nodding heads
as they pass each other by.
Taxis creep around corners,
collecting the last of the night raiders,
breath sour and eyes wine-weakened,
allergic to morning light.
Cars groan and begin to carve today’s trails
exhaust pipes snoring
as they huff out polluted clouds into smokeless sky.
The 6.a.m. sun crowns The Empire State Building,
and glazes a million windows like honey-roasted ham.
Chrysler squints,
May’s rays bounce off her bronze-blushed walls.
Sleepless wanderers now sleepy crowds,
wine bottles now coffee cups.
Pigeons flutter between dragging feet,
pecking pavements,
catching the odd petal from the honey-blossoms
that stand like angels amongst grey steel.
A sea of suits cluster at the crossing,
people politely covering yawns
as they wait for the green man to give them instruction,
unsure whether the button has even been pushed.

Roaring skyscrapers.
Businessmen shuffling papers.

Beautiful women with stilts for legs.
Maids making rich men's beds.

Runners swoosh by with grace.
Everybody a brand new face.

It's all too easy to leave no trace.
Dear God, what a place!

There are those who
despise tight spaces
who hate confinement
at least in their own basement

There's some truth
I concur
I need room
not some gloomy tomb

still there are some
who are confined
by the dust below
and the clouds above

they desire
the width of the equator
and claim
the height to the stars

but in the end
with all man as a subject
with majestic skyscrapers
and treasuries filled to the brim

their death creates borders
implodes skyscrapers
and loots the coffers

alas, as they started
in incubators
they remain claustrophobic
in coffins

the world is not enough
because we are not enough

When I was younger, I saw life
As white houses in neat rows
I loved the chrome, the steel, the metal dreams
The feel of sand and dirt and seams
There was only the meadow, the machine, and me

Now everydays an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines
I’m trying my best to be just like them-
A sad sirens song with red lipstick on
A ******* kicker, with a heroine heart

They say I’m dangerous because I don’t know what I want
They say I f@cked my way to the top.
Well we all mourn atop skyscrapers
As they clamor for judgment day
But I’m not afraid of dying
When the words of prophets are written on the subway walls
And the good crawl down to tenement halls

They sing for fame, liquor, love, scream give it to me
Because I thought I was sitting pretty on the throne of metal steel and chrome
Fools, I say, you do not know
That all I want now is to be left alone

So I sit up at night talking to the moon
Becoming so lost its like I never existed in the first place
Listening to the fabulous clockwork of heart and lungs
Listening to all heart’s dints and machinations
Made of metal and tears and chrome


I was lovely once, marred forever by a pair of (heart shaped glasses)
The foulmouthed flower of bohemia
Moonshine, take me to the stars tonight
While I’m not afraid to live fast and die young
Among the whispering , the champagne and stars

Angry yet, half in love
With death in the cooling twilight
Singing an arsonists lullabye with the workers in songs
For I stumbled into trouble, got my makeup on
A red lipstick sirens sad song
Of metal, steel, and chrome

Its real hard to be free when you are bought and sold
And only money makes you smile
They tell me I did it but we blew it
They say I’m too young to worry ‘bout burning out
So come on, let me bite the bullet now

I’m stuck in the landscape, the loveclub
I'll save you a seat next to me down below
This heights messing with my head
The ground calling to me
Like something out a dream
I’m scared to jump but terrified to stay
And this way I’ll never, feel no pain.

my boy builds coffins, don't ya know
of metal, steel, tears, and chrome