Your banks are overflowing
Though not the banks you would like
But a river of blood was overdue
Overwhelming, your carnage
Overspent, your accounts
Your karma is following you
Through the streets of Manhattan
The canals of Biscayne
The yachts and the Pipers find you
When you wake where are you
In this rubble and ruin,
The washed away cheekbones of youth
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