Invitation to a Party

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The Chamberlains

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The sky is cast, the dye is all the same
The blot leaks out above the great decay
The streets are cracked, our calves are swole and lame
The hands are dealt, but no one's game to play
The night is young but the hour is far too late
To lift and drop a question 'pon your plate
The golden smog that seeps and permeates
Will curl about and slowly suffocate
Now the elixir is finally kicking in
I'm floating in that old, dirty mellow sea
Tendrils reaching their way up every fingertip
Through the waves, shapes flicker and become abstractions
Somehow melding into much clearer representations
Descending ever deeper, swallowed into a strange
And seemingly bottomless void
The threshold's crossed, a new celestial plain
Where felines talk and towers are 'gulfed in flame
And the faces float, an imitation game
As hands tick by, but time stands still the same
The air is hot and the bright lights agitate
Our heartbeats throb, as the sirens escalate
Oh the veins are clogged, the blood can't circulate
Our tongues are tied, the words won't formulate
And up above, the violence echoes from the surface
As great, unwieldy vessels crash blind in the darkness
The screams of mariners strain to break above the din
But it's only the distant reverberations that trickle down
Becoming ever more and more faint as the body erodes
And the pitch becomes ever more and more black

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