All neon lights are broken today, my city…my tremulous expressways…
High and stretched with the baritone of this obdurate rain.
My girl and perhaps all girls are going to loose their panties and find the unmarked synthesis,
of civilization and uncivilized paranoia.
For a change raw flagrant meats will be served…and oh comrades! what a toothless sensation that would be.
Country songs would fly over the stairways…stairways of heaven through hell…
Smile to the bald sky historians… My city won’t leave your wet nights.
And if you ask me…well death should always come in monsoon.