Old plane, new man.
Flying where where where?
Easy to get a girl, easy girl.
Harder to get a job round here.
Piece of cake to buy a 50 bucks car.
Everything pre-owned in this town.
People are rowdy raw and raucous.
Like a Springsteen song.
Except it's real and deadly.
Me, I don't carry a piece nor watch my back.
If your time's up, so be it.
I've got Him watching me.
So be nice to Jimmy or else.

In the proud of the night
(well past the community allowance of social mirth)
curfew has been ignored on mass

The town is flooded with its near full population
on the streets

A tension

Intelligence is lost in the mob formation
all tender that something is frowning
that a ‘big thing’ is about to happen

How do you speak out in this field ?
Town Cryer
An old fashioned post but still held
Professional,
he strikes out a pound against the atmosphere


Might I hold your attention Good People
Gods People may I bend your ear ?
Upon my authority
Mark my words
And
As Goodly subjects of our fare town
I ask that you return to your abodes
Account for your household
Barrier your threshold
Tend a warm hearth
And wait out this night
Praying as family
As unit bond
And union under Gods kind eye


The Cryer has given direction
Repeating to all the gatherings he comes upon

By his office he has told them to swear off

The public move
Infected by the nights vibration
Addled and inflamed
Disperse
Crowds coward together
And relax apart
Walking foal, new to footfall
Unsecured
Sparks in the dark
Unguided and untested
Weapons into the criminal night
New spawned characters
Fused
Laughing giddiots,
scolders,
prancers
Diners, not surgeons
Fledded on venoms
Sense riders

As their individual monsters grow they distance one another
They pepper
Repeating the town
Strays of mess opportunity
Few go straight home

A remattered night is made place
An unpracticed costume horror
No dress rehearsal here !
A remattered night is made

I live in a dying city.
With more for sale signs than inhabitants.
When walking through the streets i see no activity, no joy and no people.
This city has no malls, no gas stations, no schools.
When passing by the old buildings who used to house laughter and learning i only see the unmowed lawns and crumbeling structure. Yesterday i heard an ambulance.
Now there is one less inhabitant and one more for sale sign.
This city is dying, if we leave, it will be gone forever, if we stay it will die with us.
Im not sure the title, city, fits anymore.
I live in a place with small rows of houses and more for sale signs that inhabitants.
I live in a place where laughter is no more and where failure is written on the street names, i live in a place that is dying with no hope for resurection.
And no, it is not our fault, it is not your fault, we can not blame anyone for the deception our city has caused.
We live here, we stay here, and we will fight for our right to call this place a city for as long as there are inhabitants.
Untill all there is, is for sale signs, we will be living in this dying city.

grab your bags
let go of your inhibitions
and let's leave.
leave this town
leave this city
and break free from our shackles, our chains.

we'll run by fields of gold
bask in the warmth of dusk
wade through the weeks of cold
and reach the crossroad of life.

together,
all the way.