The Great King Calamity Appreciation Society

A powerful wind blows through here,
Every year I find myself on it.

A man stands so cold in a city so old, wandering out of his skin.
Looking for a job, a place to settle in, construction or plumbing or some such thing.

A girl on the street singing the Pet Shop Boys, rhyming too fast to tell,
Stigmata on her hands, a bible in her arms – a baby trapped within her shell.

Star crossed lovers, or crossed star haters, never the twain shall meet,
Sinking fast, or rising slow – they’ll never known when they live on the streets.

Like a violent rage, such a bloody rage…

In a mind so twisted, a life constricted a chance to settle everything,
So roll the dice baby, I ain’t got time to waste. Let’s get on our bike and end this tonight.

Little jack Horner sat in corner eating his curds and whey,
Along came a man, a gun in his hand,
And blew poor Jackie Boy away.

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