A Megalomaniac Megalopolis

″I make money, but fuck money we want love
Give me your heart and your hand and we can run…″

~*~

You missed the crooked target and slammed the painting on the fringe

Your trajectory was fucked-up from the beginning, but you didn’t cringe

It’s a syllogism logic, cold reanimation of glass memories and phantoms

You checked the list and the rearview mirror, but you skipped our column

It was a punch against the viscid honey, my plural interruption of hatred

Unauthorised to sell your bid against me, so you made my grave your bed

Don’t fall on your face love, that countenance is worth a bargain shop

And I’m a thief running semicircles in your grocery aisles until I drop

I’m affluent, but somehow always broke with mercury in my capillaries

I’ll die inhaling fumes but this shit just ain’t worth the expense of money

But I’ll be generous with my emotions, I’ll cash in my handshake on impulse

I’m a millionaire when it comes to stupidity, and I play casino for the fools

You’re the main grand event darling, I’m just the slipshod consolation prize

They cover me with cheap bouquets but this ribbon unravels from the lies

So three cheers for growing up too high, and one more of nepenthe for the road

Gusts of misery pushing you back, this is a tantrum of issues you can’t uphold

Don’t spend sedated backward glances, that mirror’s just screwing up your vision

If you came to bleed radiation and lust forget tonight, let me accomplish your mission.

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