On the floor of the Exchange,
Half-eaten by the deranged,
The bankers all lay strewn.
No one is immune.
The same scene’s at all the courts.
Oh, how my body hurts!
What will become of us?
Police turned rabid vagrants;
Children devouring parents.
Deciding to die together
In a hotel room, two cursed lovers
Ate each other’s hearts.
Oh, how my body hurts.
What will become of us?
These grim accounts exude
A foul certitude.
To be reduced to sweet
Speed bumps of rotting meat
Above which flies hover and dart…
Oh, how my body hurts
With what will become of us!
The diagnosis is the disease;
A hunger that will not cease.
Mobs tear each other asunder.
There’s nothing left to plunder
At the Targets and K-Marts.
Oh, how my body hurts.
What will become of us?
The fierce and shuffling sprawl’s
Now scraping at the wall.
While still with human voice
And capable of choice,
I scrawl this farewell verse.
Oh how my body hurts.
What will become of us?