Tropicalia Lyrics

submitted by m. burgess
#9
#9
when they beat on a broken guitar
#9
and on the streets they reek of tropical charms
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the embassies lie in hideous shards
where tourists snore and decay
when they dance in a reptile blaze
you wear a mask an equatorial haze
into the past a colonial maze
where there's no more confetti to throw
#9 #9
you didn't know what to say to yourself
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love is a poverty you couldn't sell
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misery waiting in vague hotels
to be evicted
you're out of luck you're singing funeral songs
to the studs they're anabolic and bronze
they seem to strut in their millennial fogs
'til they fall down and deflate
now you've had your fun
under an air-conditioned sun
it's burned into your eyes
leaves you plain and left behind
see them eyes and fall
into the jaws of a pestilent love
you didn't know what to say to yourself
love is a poverty you couldn't sell
misery waiting in vague hotels
to be a victim