Ungdomshuset
Amber's dying as you watch her fade to dust
Like a cigarette borrowed from a forgotten stranger
Leaves a trail of spoilt eggs in the yellowed grass
Broiled in desert heat, medium well & sunny side up
She'd walk right past men chained to automobiles
Lay on the concrete & let them crawl past
Cogs push papers into slots that lead nowhere
Machine teaches want for worthless distraction
If all the people vanished in one night
Production
Would forge ahead
Embattled gears push themselves on & on
Abstraction
Of modern life
Possession
No future plans
Writer/s: White Paul
