Hello, and I'm sorry
A salutation and a farewell
I don't have much time

This Times New Roman is going to fly from my fingertips like a plague of moths
The hollow black letter shells crunched into the ground like the skin of a cicada
This is all that's left, and you can do whatever you want with it
Keep it to yourself or let it serve as a warning

This city is disgusting; a corpse of what it used to be
The people are filthy, gluttonous
Ruled by the power exchange of sex from the hands of the proletariat to the bourgeoisie
The tops of the skylines buzz with the lackluster enthusiasm
The ground level is caked in dirt and rust and grime
And the people that dwell there wake and rub the filmy layer off their lukewarm eyes

There are some here I love
Some who fear me
And some who wish I was dead

I didn't ask for this
No one asks for this
You're born into it
You grow up oblivious and sheltered
And one day the evil realities of this place hit you square between the eyes like a perfectly aimed bullet
If this were a movie
I would ride off in some blood red sunset down a stretch of desert road into the wasteland that keeps us captive here
But this isn't a movie

These are the BADLANDS...