papertrees

Hot psychotic twisting like a club vinyl, these helpless sheep dumb themselves with each flash of the playboy's chandelier, a billion camera lenses, happy flash bulbs, tiny light explosions spreading over the room. Adjectives branded on their sweating, naked skin: psychedelic, glamophonic, fucked, hypnotic, electronic. All of them gape with beer bottle eyes, their field of vision narrowed like a neck. There is nothing but the numb charge of a vibrant dance floor, calling and calling, screaming and crying, for the souls of the naïve. Ubiquitous "they" will answer that call. They will dance. They will drink. They will