Wednesday, September 2, 2015

We Are Going To Die

We Are Going To Die
Surazeus
2015 09 02

All the way across the world,
dancing on old telephone lines,
angels without souls or eyes
fly war planes across bleeding skies.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Gangs of boys in rotten streets,
fighting for their slice of the pie,
work all day as money slaves,
pawns in the game the devil plays.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Cinderella hates her dad,
escapes from home and runs away,
branded by the king of pimps,
imprisoned in the house of lies.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Swinging hammer of despair,
Johnny builds new national bank,
leaps on midnight stage to sing,
and howls in rage, God save our King.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Cindy closes tight her eyes
when preacher pays for secret kiss,
dreams of sending kids to school,
and sewing clothes for pageant show.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Walking dirty streets at night,
where neon angels promise love,
Cindy searches for lost heart
and watches Johnny sing on stage.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Lost in castle of cement
sweet Cupid wakes up blind and drunk
and shoots wild arrow of hope.
Cindy and Johnny fall in love.
No one knows why we are going to die.

I love you, Cindy, angel face,
so take my hand and run away,
refugees from House of Hope,
searching for our own promised land.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Singing under starry skies,
they drive all night to Nowhere Town.
Johnny drives a garbage truck,
and Cindy raises four cute kids.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Throwing baseball in the park,
Johnny teaches his sons to play.
Baking cookies for the game,
Cindy teaches daughters to cook.
No one knows why we are going to die.

Drinking water from the well
poisoned by the rich fracking king,
zombies wander suburb streets,
when cancer eats their brains to mush.
No one knows why we are going to die.

When we find our paradise
our bodies rot to river mud.
Earth spins lost in outer space,
and empires crumble down to dust.
No one knows why we are going to die.

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