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