Aftermath Don McLean

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Windows in a silent room,
Sunlight burns the walls to black.
Angles and dimensions melt
While colors drip and pillows crack-
Reflections of my memories like pictures pasted on a sheet,
A ribbon film of seperate frames
Lying curled up at my feet.

The film is just a snake-design
And the photographs are fading fast...
These are not memories of mine-
I have no past...

I have seen a thousand afternoons
Dissolve into the night.
Like sugar crystals on a spoon
They disappear from sight.
Grey days from the crispest morning
To the warmest afternoon...
In this room.

And I like to draw
The face I saw so long ago.
My image in the mirror tells the jagged lines
Which way to go.
A black-and-white description of
The sole survivor of the Holocaust..
All the rest were lost.

Do you see this paper face?
It has no color or no mood.
My eyes are ageless as am I!
I need no sleep, I need no food.
I am a king! But like a child,
The other children laugh at me...
Tongues of fire wagging wild,
They dance around me merrily.

I'll kill them all,
And if I fail,
I'll kill whoever I can find.
Then they'll beg me to be kind.

My eyes have seen far more
Than eyes can ever tell:
This planet plunged through mushroom fires
Of earthly hell.
I know that my sweet Jesus said He would return...
But Babylon has fallen,
And the cities...


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