There are cities growing inside my chest.
The cities all look like New York in the fifties.
Every building is tall enough to touch a cloud.
Every automobile is a convertible.
All the men wear hats and neckties.
The women all have beautiful shapes of colour upon them.
Someone has saved a baby. There is a parade.
Someone has saved every baby 13 there is the biggest parade moving through my streets.
The sky explodes with ticker tape, strangers kiss on every corner.
Their kisses are what make me live forever.
Like honey and trombones.
Like honey and trombones.