Germ City Blues

My room is full of spiders
They serenade the cobwebs
And scramble up the peeling chimney sideways
And as the smoke digests them
They croak a cool farewell
In sinister rejection
For the beconing to hell
They spit upon the laughing flies
Who ask them if they’re well
While the mayor is on the phone
In the closet of his room
And the cops are making love inside the toilet