2 Songwriters 200 Songs

Sleep well immaculate suburbia
while a full moon draws patterns on your lawns,
here am I stranded on your nicely maintained shore
while you tidy streets await a tidy dawn.
Hold out you semi-detached fortresses,
curtains drawn against all ill twists of fate,
tall antennas to receive only what you will believe
seems that doom will pass you iron garden gate.
And no princes come no kisses wake
sleeping beauty in her endless fairy tale.
Oh suburbia sleeps while cities shake
tending hedges while the weeping willows wail.
Pray for a firm stand in the hurricane
send shivers down your steel and concrete spine.
May the leaders you provide do their best just to avoid
that anything could stain your brazen shine.



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