In the raining park the chessmen play
The faithful atheists refuse to pray
The steam-works weep the addicts do not care

Crowd of cold people stand by and stare

The garbage eaters their many retainers

Come to collect all the foul remainders
The smoke hangs heavy the wrecking ball swings
In the clockwork of a collapsing thing


Wasted plastic empire`s golden age chemical wedding
Citizens in their refineries cheer the nuptial bedding

The hourglass is turning

On a shore of iron cutters and clippers

Paper rock rock paper and scissors
On a road of skulls their story moves on
It`s a bumpy ride and very very very long


In the blue sky the seagulls fly over garbage.
Are we the ocean? are we the desert?

Are we the garbage? who`s to say?