waiting for the Rain,
the storm of winds
and the flurry of H2O speckles
sometimes whirling infront
of the big bus headlights
at night.

On the way to a rave
a congrgation of concrete souls
in this Necropolis
of Corporations and tombstone smiles
chewing through streetlights like a string of candy beads
picking teeth with syringe needles after the streetside hit

surfing concrete
surfing sound
and lazers as concrete light
like gospel sounds
wearing a crown of barb-wire
tattoed with SINs
I am a sheep with a bedhead
heading for the cuts
one for my master
one for my pain
one for the little boy who lives in my head

shelling out 20s and 50s
to hear the light fest
I'll let my seratonin
andendorphins
do the rest

and when the rain comes
oh the rain comes so sweet
and cold and washing wet
like the tears of someone
with a soul left
and it's okay
I'll let the skies cry for me