City life.


Concrete Jungle

There's a bypass in the valley
It leads straight up into heaven
Carry on, my son, you carry on.

In the darkness of the dusking
Where the fates and chances meet
A dying light is gently thrashing

When the toll bridge has been crossed
You hold your breath and count to seven
Carry on, my son, you carry on

Kings and Queens of sidewalk kingdoms
Followers armored in leather
Chuckling in their ceaseless suffering

If you're a rotting corpse of tropic fruits
On the floor of concrete jungles
Carry on, my son, you carry on



Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 491 times
Written on 2007-04-29 at 10:28

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