Insomnia

Insomnia

Living where the power lines thrive
Growing high on poles like vines
Strung mid-air electrical wires
Tires screeching, pyrotechnics wheezing
Building towering so high they're screaming
I know what their yelling
"Get me down from here."
Blinking red lights flash above
Gleaming, glowing, all strung out
Planes are soaring over head
Can't you smell it in the air?

It's a blissful Sunday morning
At the funeral home your mourning
Over how it's to early for this dress
or his tie
And you had to rise at fucking five
For someone who's not even alive
To dead to care if you did your hair
Like you had something better to do than sleep...

On the sidewalks people walking
On their cellular phones talking
About what they want
For their breakfast in bed

Sky scrapers peek out below
To see a concrete valley, dipping low
Motor vehicles are flying
Past passerby's who are always sighing
Dressed for success
Theres always someone to impress
Gorgeous models, just little girls
With bottle blong hair
Those platinum curls
With all those $top dollar$ credit card bills
What if they woke up late, way past dawn?
Would this city of insomnia
Seize to continue...on?