the talking man on my computer
bringing tales of brass and pewter
still he hides the country in the back
people marching in the street
standing where the shadows greet
the hollows where the ancient ones fall back
into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark
buckets of pure adrenaline
drunk by vagabonds like gin
looking for a favor or a foe
standing in the city streets
turning forward, or retreat
no one's left who knows just where to go
into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark
like jesus
like andromeda
like disneyland
like america
like the beggars
who keep begging evermore
someone played the mandolin
someone sang of rapturin'
someone broke the window on the ford
they crossed bridges where the millionaires
drank snifters filled without a care
the banks would never snip the bloody cord
into the fractures
into the labyrinth
into the fractures
into the dark
like jesus
like andromeda
like disneyland
like america
like the beggars
who keep begging evermore
***
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