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Bullet Park

We were in the last museum
No warmer than the world outside
And we saw in the last display
A picture of the last ride of humankind

Outside is cold, cold gray
We put away the day
And tightened up the sky
So nothing gets through

Insipid faces stare at the jawbox
And dreary mouths quote stock exchange
And tired fingers pass tired bills
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Then one day all is gone
And weary legs walk blackened hills

We walked into bullet park
No colder than the world inside

We touched holes in dead trees
Where shots had passed
Through warm flesh
Then cold breeze