And in the death
|
As the last few corpses lay rotting on the slimy
|
thoroughfare
|
The shutters lifted in inches in Temperance Building
|
High on Poacher's Hill
|
And red, mutant eyes gaze down on Hunger City
|
No more big wheels
|
|
Fleas the size of rats sucked on rats the size of cats
|
And ten thousand peoploids split into small tribes
|
Coverting the highest of the sterile skyscrapers
|
Like packs of dogs assaulting the glass fronts of Love-Me Avenue
|
Ripping and rewrapping mink and shiny silver fox, now legwarmers
|
Family badge of sapphire and cracked emerald
|
Any day now
|
The Year of the Diamond Dogs
|
|
"This ain't Rock'n'Roll
|
This is Genocide"
|
|
-----------------
|
Future Legend
|
| David Bowie |
