LYRIC FOR SALE

By Pete Z

Absolute titillation,
stimulation, fulfillment...
Distant dynasty
limited to a degree;
isolate the key

The friction at full tilt
we're grasping at straws
wafer-thin air

Curious obsession
some wild fascination;
disregard past quarters
motion in the extreme
gathering speed

In the darkness
amid the gloom
rhythm machine splutters
obliterates, sends out signals
that get ignored

Ah torture!
Absolution, rejection
complete and utter paranoia

Proven dream
grasping, igniting
Systems restored,
nothing untoward

Perfection
The game is over
There's no waiting for their kind