As the hour hand slowly drags along the bolded twelve chiming the hour
The city's inhabitants are drifting into a deep slumber; unaware of what's to occur
Flames silently begin to rise up above the clock tower that once stood so lofty

A bed of bright orange creeps along the metal frame of the Brooklyn Bridge
The tall dark structure crumbles into the river below as the flames devour it
Floating in the opaque water was a slightly charred stop sign that is no longer needed

Atlantic Avenue is hidden beneath clouds of smog that arose out of yellow mischief
Trilogies of windows shatter at an instant as shards of glass sky-rocket to the ground
Followed by the crown of lady liberty that tumbles to the ocean under her feet

Apartments implode from the pressure of everlasting heat that surrounds their entirety
Taken by way of surprise the people are forced out of their silent homes in fear of their safety
For no one is safe when the city sleeps in flames