The sun rose
Dripping eternal sunshine
Pale in the bright blue morning light.
Flickering eyelids.
Torn up broken dreams.
Nightmares cast away by the cry of the day.

In the town square
The people scroll by with knives in their purses
Guns in their mouths
And smiles like old '50s photographs.

Living in a hostile world.
Breathing in
Really feeling it
Tasting the tired stench of America.

And the bags beneath our eyes grow bigger and bigger
Till one day they burst
And out come the flowers and the lovers' smiles
Salty and wet.

But the people keep walking, and I keep ­waiting
yearning for the hour when we're all dirty, beautiful and free.