All these lives
That live in the screen
Where are they now?
Whose fortress so keen
Does hold them and hold them
Or give them a scene
Oh the angels of darkness
With their night vision so keen
All of these actresses
So fortunate and dumb
Whose strong stage appearances
Have rendered us dumb
The lives of the livid
Are bubbling beneath
But whose lives
So softly
Like a lamb's heart do beat
Where are the Voikador's
Or the Roman's of Crumb?
I love not
The Wicked whores
Or the agents of hum
I long for the days of yore
When the basketball thumbed
And the joystick
Of Amigas
On Road Rages hummed
Oh this was my feel good
Off licenses joy
To hold onto
