Downtown
There lives a bundle of nerves
Buzzing, with the talk of the day
With the half-cooked tales
Of the bedridden, bored and fatigued

So easily skewered
Through his thin-plated armor
He merely, wallows in the storm
Until the slanderous winds, die down

Fight it or fly
The former seems foreign
So he spears through the heavens
When he’s had his fill of stray lies

Scattering the shreds of his pride
In one reckless
Thrust to freedom

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