tabula rasa

All the birds had stopped singing

And specks of ash and burned memory

Floated, danced all around like

So many little feathers

And after that bomb dropped and

Shattered dreams of lost hope and found ignorance

All the people stopped screaming

All their ears, forced lullaby, ringing

The horror of playgrounds razed hazy with all the smoke

The sickness of the swings still swinging

And so much for the grotesque empire

And so much for the show,

The false comedy of false gods resigned to ugly truth

And so much for desire

So much for all of that, and here & there we go

Into the wreckage and the snow

And some angel screams into all the fire

Screams new dreams of what we used to know