Those chariots, racing your run, autographing flooded slums.
Those chariots, they never sleep, chased you down a lilac's lung.
Rat tails just sprout from your scalp.
Those chariots, they're closing in, made your wife from diesel fumes.
Those chariots with megaphones threw a bachelor party for you.
Soaked fur just dyes our dirty talk.
Every fang is polished gag-colored green like a sun so sick it only shines when it sinks.
Your mother's tethered to the tv set.
Your father's doing push-ups in the driveway again.
We want a coupon for a discount dream.
We want a forest just like a museum where the leaves are priceless antiques,
Memorabilia from a century kidnapped by grief.
C'mon, rat rider!
Those chariots stamp their ID on disappointment's sobbing chords.
Those chariots trampled new filth on fantasies you can't afford.
Cold claws just ransacked your pockets.