Modern World

In the shadows of the night come the friends of fantasy dancing

forward toward

The dawn, wrapped in coats of vanity. in the closets in the home

hang the toasts

Of days gone by, breaking every haunted scheme confusing

thoughts with fantasy.

This is the modern world, this is the modern world, this is the

modern world.

In the backrooms where they wait, keeping time so patiently,

playing cards and

Casting lots, sit the last of judgement’s [all]? in their

confusion to deceive,

They miss the point so handily, filling every secret need. they

succeed perfectly.

This is the modern world, this is the modern world, this is the

modern world.