Hazy passes the day.
A solemn look at things been seen,
Halls traversed and teeming,
Idlers and men ensnared.
Quizzing ourselves on things we know
As the screen in our mind pulls away.
At once there is a filthy glow.
We are no longer men,
Just caricatures, rapid demise
Guarded by the lense.
bent double on the lawn
twisted, beaten upon
caught up before the dawn
with emotion sawn
theyre curled in their chiffon
the blood has spilt and gone
But dear I see the wall,
And hear your voice so clear.
My gosh, you are so near.
Can't wait to bite your ear.
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