Barely human creatures who gawp and gape to the bass their spiritual highway speeding at 100 miles an hour to painful inevitability.
Blinded by sight and deafened by sound they trudge arm in arm towards the grave but not in silence, in dance.
Beastly bestial the polo-shirted swine who cajole and cavort in their pre-planned filth and lest one of them finds their partner lest one of them finds their sex here amongst the throng of cankered beings two three FOUR buttons undone! They are undone.
Beings unravelled by time and by drink left to fester and stew in their own grace. Their shameless grace.