Voodoo City Blues

Smokestacks claw at violet skies, Where the river bleeds in rusted glow. This town sold its soul to the grinding wheel, But keeps its bones in hanging rows. The mayor writhes with worms in his veins, The preacher drinks sin from a thief’s cracked cup. The baker’s famed for his midnight special— Truth kneaded in dough, rising up. Oh, Electric City, where the pavement groans, Kids chew their futures on cemetery stones. Civic pride with a rusted spine, Filthiest jewel in the devil’s mine. The toothman steals silver from your grin, Melts it down to gild his throne. The flower girl sells dead-star bouquets— “Buy one fast ‘fore your own light’s gone.” The schoolroom hums with blackened lessons, They sing the snake-tongue alphabet. Every saint here’ll teach you to soar, Then laugh as you crash in silhouette. Beauty queens march past the hollow-eyed crowd, Last year’s winner stitched from moonlit skin. Crown of spiders in her neon hair, Fed to the mob with a Cheshire grin. Oh, sweet, sweet ruin… Electric City, with your venom lips, Where wolves wear gold and saints have iron grips. Progress, profit, poison creed— “Trade your ghost for a seat at the feast.” The needleman whispers, “I’ll kill the ache,” He leaves the wound, but takes your name. The lawman peddles shadows on a loan— “Throw your soul in—interest alone.” Fat cats lick the fear from the streets, Pave their roads with borrowed blame. Toss the choir counterfeit hymns, Watch their voices melt like acid rain. "If your heart’s sick of plastic prayers, And your brain thirsts for true damnation…" Come where the dirt dreams in sparks and wires, Where the dead cast votes in neon pyres. Electric City, Voodoo Town— Pigs in crowns, and the angels drown. Step right up to the grand charade… Take a bite of light— Or let it peel you slow.