when they beat. on a broken guitar. and on the streets. they reek of tropical charms. the embassies lie in hideous shards. where tourists snore and decay. when they dance in a reptile blaze. you wear a mask. an equatorial haze. into the past. a colonial maze. where there's no more confetti to throw. you didn't know what to say to yourself. love is a poverty you couldn't sell. misery waiting in vague hotels. to be evicted. you're out of luck. you're singing funeral songs. to the studs. they're anabolic and bronze. they seem to strut. in their millennial fogs. 'til they fall down and deflate. you didn't know what to say to yourself. love is a poverty you couldn't sell. misery waiting in vague hotels. to be evicted. now you've had your fun. under an air-conditioned sun. it's burned into your eyes. leaves you plain and left behind. see them eyes and fall. into the jaws of a pestilent love. you didn't know what to say to yourself. love is a poverty you couldn't sell. misery waiting in vague hotels. to be a victim.