Living constantly in a four walled room
that takes the same keys at all of it’s doors
see all our neighbors thru the windows
because nobody has decency anymore
and that same recipe calls for the two kinds of cake that everybody wants
so they can eat and have their food fight live
some eat with their hands
and some eat with their knives
and some just starve on their hamster wheels
quickly spinning blind
and me and all my neighbors
are Living on the grid of a hard wired hangover
and a stimulation high
of a sensitized extravagant soul
and zombified mind
wishing and hoping our cake gets its prize
and all the tenants run for the same door
but not till the shit gets tracked all over this
privileged American floor
we listen to music from paper mache singers
and we read stories about other zombies
and fall in love with vampires
and we think of Mao fondly
because we cant stand being alive
and the effort it takes to breathe
but we sure don’t want to die
and we clearly dont want to leave
our foreclosed house
funded by our virtual needs
and we keep watering
our rootless trees
and we just keep
Living constantly in a four walled room
that takes the same keys at all of it’s doors
and the curtains are waiting to be hung
because nobody has in decency anymore
and in our desperation we cant seem to get through those doors
without leaving shit on our privileged American floors
