Skyscrapers

Other men Other histories and my damp back and obedient ambition along the same lines in this field walked over to flatness in less than a year. My inner germ shifts and worms through the thunder of existence and nothing changes noteven my expression even though I am last and have a better view and am absolutely nearer, much closer to you. I won't look up, I know the sky of doom, the flat hay and the totems for today. I will serve today tommorow in some hope. The same hope of fledgling warts, moody cows, sham shoes and voodos. Lets walk. The bottom straight ahead of me keeps me moving. His names Zay, my names Kray and we march with screaming maiden minds as we have this year every day except Sunday. Sunday? It's an accident and a parallel existence but no changed realities; it's all the same Zay, climbe your pole and I'll stake you down. This way, that way. You die. I Stay.