The Fresco

Faces up and enter
Mind your head
Away from the rain, and fast
Overhead, on the molded ceiling, if visible through the smoke, the fresco
What they have depicted here is a kingdom where fools swarm like earthworms
Lions and wolves cuddle together with lambs and deer
Nice, but the beasts look like idiots with their fangs that way

Which minds me of the tingling in my lungs
How the hell do they deal with it, the healthy and well
Thought it must be a bitch for those still in the traffic, albeit the fuckers are so unaware if it now
The air is being washed clean by the air, but just look at them go
As if the rain couldn't catch them
To them I dedicate my song

OOOOOO
Watch your feet
And mind your step
On this damaged ground
Brush the rain rhythmic sweeps
Take on the breeze with your eyes closed
And an angle for the wind!

Look again, at the network of moments, if visible through the smoke
The winds are fast, the rain too heavy
And here we are
Just confused, and out of place, as the beasts up overhead