I trust no one, not even myself
Crosslegged at the botom of the Great Smog
Listless, pill-less, heartless
Nothing to write home about
But the power built on powder
The castles made of candy
And thirty thousand lakes, rivers and reservoirs
Taking their toll on my budget.

He reached for her hand but she pulled away
He reached for her wrist but it was withered and grey
He reached for her hem but she coughed and shook
He reached for her face but she had swallowed a book

Poor darling, my darling
All limp and lame
Un-crossing your legs
To star dust and fame.

Tumble dry now and sleep for the night
Tucked into my pocket of the shirt with the kite
You know? You know!
All is not lost
Just a look to the left
To see what your heart hates most.