This city’s crest should be a clock
With cartoon speed lines
And lit fuses, their proud colours
On two perpendicular sticks of dynamite
“We live, we die, we chase time”
Scrawled below in a kind of swanky Helvetica
In some god-forsaken language.
“Hail!, this city of dreams and hustle and hell”
We yell after a swig of fake palm wine
“Hail!, her spirit free – no rules, no boundaries –
We can be anything we want to be”
Set to chaos and delirium is the rhythm
This city’s people sway
On and on they fall and fall
Till reason fades away.