The Devil's Red Lips

The Devil's red lips

And the taste of sin

The lights in the dark

Erotic pulse of the city

It grows like a lung

That can only inhale

And pinch out the flame

Of the true and timid

Expanding and swallowing

The dear countrysides

With their steeples

And consequent goodness

Fueled by liquor and lust

And 24 hour access

Small pills that do everything

From getting them up to putting them back to bed

And everything in between

The hours they seek

A chemical substitute 

For sunlight and true air

Their bodies starved and unable

To reach, truly feel another

So the drug-trade

Synthetic dopamine passion

Sex for the sake of

How many days it has been since

A not knowing what to do 

With frenzied nerve-endings

But to press them into others

And pray for release

And a calm that once existed

Somewhere in that swallowed-up countryside