We found ourselves cold on aluminum floors

Riding streetcars of desire screaming to a halt at apathy's junction

So we were flung onto concrete and forced to look into the eyes of consumerism on Canal St.

And when we were blind enough we stumbled into an Iowa cornfield to make our homes in husks

It was there that we discovered the flyers guiding us to some big city dream

In a smoke-filled room with red-gel lights and a gender-fluid server asking us "coffee or sanity"

We chose rivers that flowed into gutters that carried our childhoods into the sewers

This was our sidewalk baptism

Streetlamp Jesus anointed us with Jack Daniels

And scarred our foreheads with crystal ashes

Then we fell forward down into the manholes of our desires

Where we discovered that wonderland was hell

And heaven had been dropped by accident on the wet floor of a Harlem subway stop

But when we got there, we found nothing at all