Hub, hub and hail to the city's nucleus, or nuclear, whichever you prefer in this damned city sphere
Praise to the prisms of the high-rise masses and the single organism of the ignorant and the nervous hors de oeuvres
served to desecrate the table of the w****s on the corners and the pervs and the doggy dog lives of the capitalist and the stockist
and the roamers and the boasters in the zone of the friendlies, little panda-printed shirts, girls at your heels sold with
newspaper roses, with a sign of the times on the prices of the grocers selling apples at a kuai
Prayers to the Buddhas in our conscious and the incense instant conscious in the alleys made of conscious
and the cosmopolitan highs of the malls and the highways and the Guanxi binding ties, served in the glasses of the
peasant by the buzz, and the whispers of the wishers and the societal suicidals, the broad-bellied thinkers in their
condos by the thousands, hosting sub-suited ladies with umbrellas for the constituted laws for the bored
hoisting multi-lighted words over shops listing prices for the buys and the unwise protocols
written solely for the purpose of crashing cash flows through this here-now city in red high-'hell' shoes