[NYCSPITZ]

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He sat solitary in the frosty purple haze of a sick prison -
feeling the chasm of this crazed, undulating solipsism
like a dangling puppet under a bunch of strings chillin'...
watching mushroom clouds bloom - and this fallout wind's killin'
He'd been steeling his heart against the crippling greed and doom
reading all of the angry works of mister Seigfried Sassoon
He found parallels to it now during world war three
Sitting on the blackened stump of this burnt out tree...
his colleagues surrounded him - all of them dead and dotting the land
The myriad clouds...had to be ten times larger than the ones we dropped in Japan
so even from a great distance - the power this fission's blowing is wild
...the Lieutenant smiled -
fuck it, he'd sit and smoke for a while.
it was all so ambiguous - life and fate and his place on this earth
feeling kinship with those others taking their place in the dirt
The bright orange moon burned in the night sky and damaged his eyes
as the bombs' force sped forth, calling this planet's demise...
The sky turned white in a muted and angelic explosion
and the last man on earth...laid back as a relic of soldiers
thanking Earth he closed his eyes - they gave a hell of a try
life's swirling rebirth as purple rain fell from the sky

Perceptions heightened, the most alive he'd ever felt in his life
Fate had given him lightness of day and dealt him his nights
Chest heaving in total peace, hearing the bell of the light -
the strange colored mist...swirled in eddies and fell from the heights.




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