Standing in your wake
How much can it take
Before the boards cave in

Hoping we don't fall
With our backs against the wall
Trying to make the boards cave in.

Looking at the scene
Saying what we mean
If what we meant to do was lie.

Above all of it
Looking at where we hit
When we landed in a place called Life.

The boys all had broken hands
As they walked from stand to stand
Trying to buy back the little they had lost.

The girls all had empty eyes
And they spoke in rhyme and lies
As they held the hands of broken boys.

The parents all were sleeping
As their children went out creeping
Into the dark and dense and quiet night.

Seeing men on bikes
And fagots and whores and dykes
Was their favorite part of the night.

They walked through open doors
To find ghosts giving tours
Of a playground with a sandbox and a swing.

They toured places they once knew
Forgotten toys, abandoned zoo,
Wishing they could remember what it was like.

They found needles in the ground,
Thought that had a nice sound,
And put them in the veins in their arms.

They saw what we couldn't see
Dug holes and climbed a tree
For hours on end.

Until the sun peeked out her head
And they wandered home to bed
Until night would come again.

The children all were sleeping
When their parents went out creeping
To wander to work and play and sex.

We rubbed our eyes in wonder
And tumbled through the thunder
In a place we learned was called Life.

It was a place God had forsaken
Yet could have been mistaken
For Paradise or Heaven or Hell.

We climbed back above the town
Then looked back down
Grateful our boards did not cave in.