Mechanical Stars
The mechanical stars
Warned me about you
I should never have listened
Now don't start, instead
Follow me through
The Arabic snowstorms
And the Antarctic deserts
In search of a melding of the minds
And I remember once
A tourist
On the tourbus through my mind
Asked as we passed
Through an oasis of friendship
Into a blackened, charred ruin
"What happened to this place?"
"Arson," I replied
As it seemed the only thing to say
"What I don't understand," he continued,
"Is why they lit the match."
"Because," I answered simply,
"The smell of gasoline lingers."