gamblersmonk: (As your time spins and sets)

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Created on 2014-08-25 23:41:10 (#2308266), never updated

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Name:Connor Morgan
There’s a city it is said that borders with the land of dead
And since you’re here again, you best just stay
New Albion’s its name, a sleek and large and lonely place
And a tale of it we tell today

Two decades now it’s been since a voodoo religion
Spread like flames and disappeared like smoke
Only a generation hence, oh the tech boom was intense
But these days Arcadia Corp is closed

Here’s to the days of bliss and wishes
Here’s to the wild seeds once sown
Here’s to the cults and waltz and whipsers
Before they just us all alone
Left us hangin on our own

Housing projects lay half bare
Bathed in lonely, neon glare
Chorales of cockroaches sing hymns all through

There’s an oracle now who the middle classes all flock too
Though it’s a radiated pile of ooze

There’s a super hero though he’s just a hologram you know
Three college students they project each night
The monorail line A has a ghost at night they say
A pop star who has yet to break or die

Connor's Song
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