Poetry

"Nocturnal Pleasure"
By Meatloaf

The entire city is burning.
You can see the flames like the inside of a mad jukebox.
Lost boys stalk the streets with those jungle markings on their chests.
Barbarians prowl in shadows, their heads rocking with rodents.
Motorcycles reproduce in nocturnal alleys, groaning with greasy pleasure.
And they've blown up the YWCA like a giant baloon, and sent it out to sea
Full of screaming
Lovely
Lonely
Girls.