They used to unveil buildings here, and people would applaud
Now we grasp the sandstone with one hand, in a fearful death grip
And we erect another cage of steel and glass with the other
This place is a black hole, a void of meaning
It changes people to bank accounts to cars to mortgages
To nice teeth to a good job to nice kids to pension plans
But I'll be there, in every nook and cranny
Drinking water from drains, smearing bloodstains on the sidewalks
Inscribing my name onto the walls
Now we grasp the sandstone with one hand, in a fearful death grip
And we erect another cage of steel and glass with the other
This place is a black hole, a void of meaning
It changes people to bank accounts to cars to mortgages
To nice teeth to a good job to nice kids to pension plans
But I'll be there, in every nook and cranny
Drinking water from drains, smearing bloodstains on the sidewalks
Inscribing my name onto the walls
posted by Information Sniper at 6:58 AM
3 Comments:
Bleed on the un-bleedable.
You can't get blood from a stone, but you can leave some on it.
Kudos, sir.
I think I could have done this better; I like the third stanza, I'm happy with the first stanza, but I think the second stanza leaves much to be desired.
Thanks, though!
i really liked this tom.
it brought back this powerful image of the church on 7thave and 1st st. in downtown calgary.
that corner is very intertesing to me. the depravity of that area downtown- and this powerful sturcture fighting against the modernivity (i am pretty sure i just made that word up....) of the downtown. it seems so out of place yet so crucial to maintain.
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