Standing at the edge of the sun blinds you
So turning the other way
You watch its shadow puppets
A soft factory fitting suppleness
Running the show in half a sound
Internal streets participate and pray the damaged
To here on the way there
He’ll do something
Extra special for you
Destroy this world
Curse this world
Powerful and fascinating and special
But the devil makes you lie
The mail is on fire
It was sent on fire
It was delivered on fire
For money behind their backs and waving at gold cats
Mid-day strange thunder with gun powder
And flower bedded gowns in time-tender fanning
The man was my customer and shot
Instead the mattress, the floor, the furniture
Avoiding the countdown chorus
Parked next to the open trench
“Assigned to be sealed”
Like the rest of the land is already closed