My head spins to madness in the direction of the days doom.

Floating like a cheap balloon through a patch of thorns.

I passed a Jesus sign selling coffee and shoes.

In the land of riches, there’s only dusty doughnuts and heaps of grease.

Time halted by a train ripping through the terrain.

I squirm like a cat plunged into a bucket of oil as I get closer.

Speckles of clouds illuminated by the doomed city ahead.

Another day another dollar, they say.

Well, I say, another soul sold to pay the rent,

and no trees to see.