Fire in the Sky

with hot nights burning down the block
and midnight getting closer on the clock
mama tries to cool it by the window
but the chill wind has forgotten how to blow

and the man walks down on the street
oozing blisters on his feet
city hounding him wherever he might go

while the master beats the heat
and drinks his whisky neat
at the sidewalk cinema cafe
the strollers stop and stare
as if he were not there
in a city scene too ugly to endure

then mama in the morning
of the new day that is forming
gets up and goes to work right on time
but wading through the ashes
of the fire the night before
comes in two minutes late to the factory floor

and the master stands there watching
counting dollars on the clock
the long hand going slowly round the rim
but the city has no master
no mama nor no man
ever going to get to run the master plan
got no way to stop the burning
and the long red hand from turning
so they turn around and fight among themselves

then the man shows on the pavement
shoots his pistol in the air
and that shot is just the spark
the city needs
for the man to make his mark
and burn away the dark
in a methane sky lit with clouds of fire

and mama turns away
from the city in the window
the burning naked people on the street
from inside their ancient steeple
when it all came crashing down
their bodies flung like embers on the ground

now the master on the pavement
with mama and the man
all of them start preying on their knees
to the smoke they see above
please send down the cooling rain
and show us some of your forgiving love

but the smoke it does not listen
as it drifts off into space
from the city streets flowing flesh and fire
and the scent of our desire
coming off that funeral pyre
is the only fitting relic for us fools
when the hot gas pops our eyeballs
and sears our tender flesh
to make a tasty cockroach picnic when it cools