Looking at the flock of fellow motorists,
The camera took repeated shots of my rusted van.
Triggering flashbacks to my sunken dream:
Whilst racing down the tunnel to demise,
The gatso lit up the skies with its electronic rays.
Plummeting to the depths below,
The crew have sunk and the titanic follows.
Plucking pearls from the ocean floor
Unfastening necklaces and rings,
Staring deep inside their eyes,
Staring deep into their loneliness.
Floating corpses turn blue then silver
As the gatsos rays strike against the water,
Dead arms wave out like weeds,
Dead arms wave out into the loneliness.
