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Action Drum/Hanalei
concrete veins and fast food chains
stretch out on purgatory's plains
they are ruins still in tact
they are apathetic shrines
they are soul sucking traps
under the weight of information
machines and fabrications
we crippled in mutation
we are bound to desperation
billboards hang above gentrified graves
as funeral hymns float from the radio waves
down on the street sleep walking in the night
prisoners wither under neon lights
the patrons of starvation
fall into formation
collapsing in stagnation
seeking synthesized salvation
trembling in the venom air
with atoms splitting in our ears
the hollow kings expected horses hoofs
and now the silence sounds like hell
(fractured frames cannot confine us)
(empty names cannot define us)
sky stabbing witching spires
tangle their prey in communication wires
in the modern zoo denying their wills
on the brink of extinction and buried in bills
a catastrophic congregation
built on failed foundations
obsessed with domination
destined for disintegration
looking on from this awkward view
I feel helplessly sick and idealistically construed
writing manifestos in invisible ink
torn and formed on the missing link
the drums of liberation
will rise in orchestration
and the fuel of transformation
will ignite from devastation
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