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Bring It On

de Beck

Looking back at some dead world that looks so new,
Offices and fountains that they named for you,
Dazzlements of accidents rejoice their doom,
Hari-karis spinning round the golden looms.

Girl you dream infectious from a nauseous heart,
Choice cut meats from derelict boulevards.

Hear that lonesome whistle blow,
No direction to be known,
In a senile revelry.

A tearful gaze turns away,
Emoting cold and grey,
scentec eunuchs clothe our wretchedness.

Looking back at some dead world that looks so new,
Offices and fountains that they named for you,
So ungrateful to the who's and what's-his-face,
Terrorist confections look so out of place.

Looking back at some dead world that looks so new..........(5x)

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