Down through meadows of shadow and lies
Down past the tables set with delight and despise
Down a bridge, up some stairs
A view spreads of Banality's lurching pools
and disease drenched skies
It's struggling tributaries choked within our own sagging dinn
A wonderous place to be,
something to recall when asked about "back then"
A sumptuous place to have been,
blistering our beauty-cream clogged skins
Peruse the pathways, peruse it all,
At least it's something to "recall":

"Dirty bloodied pools of burning delight
Dirty little streams stuffing you all full of so much FRIGHT
I want to go back, I know what I've done,
What I've wanted to do all along....
Our breath is squelching in the muck
Our lives are ruled by a vicarious ideal labeled: "****"
Natural process is the only thing that invades,
while we all lay here,
complacent in trite's shade
Our hands, our hands are burning,
our hands are yearning
scraping through the muck,
scraping in rage cuz it's all the same
The same all over again.......
That's what I wanted to do all along,
puking as they bellow out their little songs
Their ideals are a plague,
just swat them like summer flies
Swat them away,
cuz you don't want to move off your bed of sweaty dreams unmade."

(Have I lost it? Have I lost the ideals? No, didn't really feel so.)

Down through memories of your own filmy light & imagined crimes
Down past the gluttonous tables, past those with burning hands
Down some stairs, up ahead is a bridge
Hope's view sits there glaring at the edge of Hackneyed's fens
It's struggling inside,
struggling to escape your alls idealistic skins
A light fills the confining skies,
You know the one! Look up! No need to hide!
It's such a dirty place to be,
something to recall when asked about "guilty me"
Such a dirty place to sit & spend,
blistering to ash all those slimy morals inside your heads
Peruse them,
Peruse Banility and Hope
You'll soon find it's the same ideal, that's all.....
......what a joke.