there's
a roomful of laughter
and a roomful of tears
and the women wear
pearls
dripping from their ears
the men drive sleek
daggers
through the heart of the night
and yesterday's
memories
are locked up tight
there are children
singing
full of despair
in a room filled with laughter
no
one cares
the women are pretty
they slither like
snakes
through a roomful of glass
they have no time to
waste
the men smoke cigars
and talk of the war
money and
profit
and the bright women who whore
small birds shake
raindrops
from the limb of a tree
and boys and girls
sell
themselves for a fee
in a roomful of laughter
razors cut
lines through the snow
silver lives are revealed
in mirrors
rimmed with gold
delusion comes unbidden
and
fills this cup of woe
with foolish fabled myths
we come and with sweetest
oblivion go