There is a great city
Where it always pours
devoid of all hope,
everybody mourns.
The hand reaches,
melancholy touches,
the hearts of lovers
and minds of children
There is nothing to see,
to be blind is bliss,
to the filth that coats
and death's cold kiss.
The Gunk in the streets,
names they onced possessed.
Discarded from their home,
not a place, I stress.
We walk the streets,
covered by mist.
certainly knowing
we won't be missed.
A city of shadows,
garbage in piles,
broken windows,
no smiles for miles.
Oh mighty tempest.
Let it rain, let it pour
wash away the filth
until there is nothing more.