For the war zone, the bazooka in your poncho,
For a pressure shot that presents itself continually,
Each fire display a demolished village
And the sound of guns coming after me
On the Born in the USA beach.
Every family's staked a fire in the sand
Like the barren lands, for sparklers
And fire dancers, the flames alive with the moment.
Each mortar has the will to create a universe,
But the sea clears the smoke, lets everything explode.
Everyone has a few barrels to shoot.
It's only safe at the edges of the sea.
Car alarms go off from every side,
Fire flowers in every direction but one,
A multi-dimensional explosion,
Multiple detonations of the same urge,
Confetti snake, sorcerer's spore,
The swarming of stars, while whole
Neighborhoods are under siege, exploding
Joy pop gunfire, clouds rolling east.
White smoke coats the neighborhood roofs,
The phosphorous left over
After play.