A tower of thundering phrases
collection bins and bottle caps

Twisted hunks of screeching metal
Frozen and rusting on the sun bleached plain

Dirt bleached white, like snow
A great scar on the earth.

This is what I am becoming.
To the thousand huddled masses.

I'll tell a thousand lies and words,
careful and true sound and solid,
but always full of this decay.

We're all full of this decay.