Last Stop Said The Angel

They say there is a town, just a few miles East of here
Where they eat their own babies
The chemist sells bottled crocodile tears,
Flasks of powdered toad, essence of rabies.
Between Nothing Park and Nowhere Gardens
There’s a shrink that nobody’s crazy enough to consult
Whose office is full of awaiting burdens
And who’s founded his own (suspicious) cult.

There’s a tavern where the punters are shiny green lizards
With a taste for strange places, tame catatonia and folklore
The barman’s a narcoleptic wizard
And together they drink and fuck and drink some more;
Catastrophic amounts of tea, whiskers and pain
Sift through the atmosphere’s alcohol.
It’s a beautiful picture of ugliness and rain
When they drink from their gallon-tanks of petrol.

Oh wonder of wonders, the sky is black even at night
Oh marvel and idiocy, they’ll curse it sometimes,
The pale toads of day. They may be a sight
To soothe sore eyes, but their blood is as sulfurous and heady as Time,
Though it may be human? But who gives half a shit
It’s all only a question of Death,
And Money; they bleed money - they can afford it,
They can allow the coins to drip from their breath.

In English this time, a little absurdity made in China.
J'ecris principalement en Anglais, et ce depuis plus longtemps que je n'ecris en Francais, donc va falloir vous y habituer, il y aura ici un melange.