Let's take a rest and move to Paris, France,
and live in chromium houses, and do the hula dance,
And kill ourselves while dancing beneath the disco ball.
A life confined, but rhyming-
high on speed I hear you call.
Your heart goes faster with each amphetamine.
Take out your blaster and use the cutting beam to separate the fat night watchmen from the chromium flats they guiard.
Burn down flats and library stacks with your heat ray credit card, and mask your violent actions with perfume and a smile.
The streets of Paris burning, home to Jacksonville you dial.
Amidst conflagurations, you're screaming at your Mom with frosted accusations.
And then they drop a nuclear bomb.