In a snap, saddle flap, trap clap, leather chafing boot-skin heels
Onion peels and yellow tears, dust born woe and forbidden taboos
Sing along and Bon Bon fire bimbos wailing loud. Like pasted on makeup, and circus show clowns in towns of desperate solitude's embraces.
Windblown wrappers and tired worn out flappers, removed from era's inspirations and embraces long ago, hanging on to what was, hanging on by threads of silken pearl strung memories, broken and rolling at their feet, falling and collapsing, collapsing and falling in post roaring twenties heat and new beat rhythms of jazz and blues, rock and roll and rap and tappin toes to all things new.
Lost in the irrelevance of it all in terms of drawn breaths and chiming clocks. Tick tock tick tock, falling into new wave, new century horrors, with pistols cocked, and smiles rocked by future's cold realities.
A dream a dream it seems to some in other worldly mediums and we but pay and never tally the sums of blood born ravaged, victims, two , four, eight fold pipers coming to wreak and wreck havoc, this the time , this the hour of all of our tainted glories brought to light...
