Goldblade
City of Ghosts
Tumbling through a neon-lit antiseptic realityRunning past billboards advertising nothingI melted in the sponsored summer sunI saw the girl with the cyberspace face; she smiled with plastic teethTurned on by the static babble of endless media channelsTumble on past the polyurethane plastic hi-tech baublesAntiseptic not real but somehow eroticI lost the girl with the imaginary face in a haze of acid rain
From Letras Mania