World on Fire

The car is on fire there is no driver at the wheel.  A dark wind howls the names of the lonely suicides.

The World's governments are corrupt.  We are on so many drugs, numb to it all with the radio playing loud and the curtains shut.  We are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine.  And the machine is bleeding to death. 

The Sun is going down for the final count.   All the billboards are telling lies to the people.

Flags are on top of their poles shredded and blowing in this muggy atmosphere.

It went like this: The buildings toppled in on themselves.  The skyline on fire.  Everything is washed in this beautiful orange haze.

Kiss me before it is too late.  We are walking hand and hand in the valley of death.  We open our wallets and it's filled with blood of the working populace.

Mr. Tiddles will say it once again:


This is truly the last days of this planet...