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Electric poison fade pulsed in time
Fire spider spin glow of written sonic madness
Shackamaxon spirits dance!
Hold the night devils high

Glance trance mission of intent
within the needs of discovery
Long burning
but ready for flames

Soft subtle slumber above the empty canyons
of contract numbers and memories
Those darkened high monster structures of chambered
and willing inhabitant prisoners, flags flying proudly
Now gone

Night breezes pass through empty halls and rows
Numbered, vacant.

Stars died, bridges moaned, roads hummed and droned all
far below the safety and danger of towered bliss
The silence of finality
of the pause of the beginning

Of those written words of the past
As they both collide and become alive
Hold close

Hold close

Beautiful Rat's nest and  Dark grey mop
In the house
of a bird and saint

No autographs,
please...

Hold close