I’ll Sing Straight To Your Heart Boy.

I'll sing straight to your heart boy.
And all the angels in heaven will be envious of I.
The more alacritous you are, the better. I can pilfer
every eye from each artist, with such a mollification
no-one can deny me of. I'll inhibit the Gods and
swindle them into my web of misconception
and malicous munipulation.

Entangling the towers of all the citys lit so light.
They cover the stars with musky pollutant blankets.
Whoever gave you permission to hid the beauty?
With death scattered across every alley pavement,
the firey red head proceeds to the door. New Yorks
fashion sweeping down the streets, the heir still
indeed discovers the most hooker looking of guise.
The ghosts will destroy the cities in order to rid her
of demise, they will dress her up head to toe in
magical layers of creation.

Foot steps reaking havok within the halls, the nights
glistening above the roofs. Who can see? We are the
bewildered, the blinded. The blanket suffocates us beneath.