...our filthy age...

zephyr touch as the hallowed kind makes its way into the ugly foyer
bow down
and keel over
the high times are on their way

flat and gilded spreading no where near thin on the dance floor solid
clap hands
and keel over
it don’t get no better than that

slit throat parade laden linen made of blood from the devilishly handsome
raise drinks
and keel over
may the sporting be well and good

tap tap
huzzah huzzah
no lives as important
than this

arf 08