The clowns and the madmen are led away,

Kicking and screaming, kicking and screaming.

The brand-new Bentley is brought out to play,

Factory-gleaming, factory gleaming.

The streets are swept free of the dust and muck,

Spit-clean and polished, spit-clean and polished;

Around lies the city’s ardour and luck,

Smashed and abolished, smashed and abolished.

As simpering rules...

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Feelings are
Pent up
Held in
Confined

You feel
Uneasy
Unsettled

And wish
Refined

Come the moment
They are released
Or remain contained
More so repressed

All that matters is
You feel relief
No more pain

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Do you have colour in your cheeks?

Do you go to sleep remembering what you seek?

Do you recall what it was like to be corporeal,

or does it not feel like that at all?

Do you wake to find your pillow wet at night?

Do you see the wolves congregating under moonlight,

and howl at your own stupidity for staying inside?

Do you stare at the files on your desk each weekday

listless...

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