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The car's on fire and there's no driver at the wheel, and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides. And a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt, and we're on so many drugs with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine and the machine is bleeding to death. The sun has fallen down and the billboards are all leering, and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles. It went like this: the buildings tumbled in on themselves, mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair. The skyline was beautiful on fire, all twisted metal stretching upwards, everything washed in a thin orange haze. I said, "Kiss me, you're beautiful; these are truly the last days". You grabbed my hand, and we fell into it. Like a daydream. Or a fever. We woke up one morning and fell a little further down, for sure is the valley of Death. I open up my wallet and it's full of blood.