Burning flag birthday suit

don't open life alone
contact the empire, salutionaries
they cut the skin, they peel back the onion
reveal the ghost blood, fat black gas
excudes, moves into the mirrored halls of empty values

can sister, high over
drive me, to the changing room
where the counterfeit reads
and brings its collections of orphans

meet them in the stale crypt
although it says, hate them
it's up to you and me
my faithful Cynthia
to give them the glorious life back and
remove them back here
the burning flag birthday suit