Fairy Tale
[release 0.0]

  in the kingdom of rasputin,
  by the prefecture of sappho,
  below the valley of the dyslexic,
  in the county of the druid money lenders,
  the rumors abound,
  that the princess has track marks on her arms,
  and the holy priests are shredding papers
  in the confessionals,
  while the tax collector has cut his own finger
  to mark the bills for the treasury. 

  in the kingdom of the homeless,
  by the shores of the wailing pool,
  beside the 24 hour 7-eleven outlets,
  where the ganges meets the blacktop,
  the merchants are selling icons of the gods,
  tiny vessels of vapor trapped in amber,
  and the pilgrims gathered in the square,
  are bidding prices higher than saffron
  but the rumors abound,
  that the king's soldiers are laundering
  the golds of the crown,
  and the shaman are walking incognito
  their eyes behind black raybans.

  in the kingdom of plastic crosses,
  by the valley of the paper dolls,
  beside the credit card musoleums,
  where the tangerine trees meet the marmalade sky,
  the rumors abound,
  that the prince is having an affair
  with the palace guard,
  and the magistrate has washed his hands clean
  after killing the court jester in a duel

  in the kingdom of the pedophiles,
  deep in the valley of the self-mutilated,
  beside the oil and lube stations,
  where the ozone falls on the horizon,
  the poets are writing the obituaries of me,
  driven by their madness for words,
  describing my fatal flaws in sanskrit
  casting stone on this malleable skin
  drawing blood with nylon pins