“There is a blood red circle
On the cold dark ground.
And the rain is falling down.
The church door's thrown open;
I can hear the organ's song.
But the congregation's gone.
My city of ruins.
My city of ruins.”

“Over the darkened city, the city of towers,
The city of a thousand gates,
Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the huddled towers,
Over a somnolent whisper of loves and hates,
The slow wind flows, drearily streams and falls,
With a mournful sound down rain-dark walls.”

“It was at Rome, on the fifteenth of October 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefoot friars were singing vespers in the Temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the city first started to my mind.”

“The door opened, and the men of the congregation began to come out of the church at Peribonka.”

“It is as difficult for towns and cities as it is for commercial houses to recover from ruin.”

“Idleness ere now has ruined both kings and wealthy cities.”
Otium et reges prius et beatas perdidit urbes.

“Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure 5
in gold
on a red
firetruck
moving
tense
unheeded
to gong clangs
siren howls
and wheels rumbling
through the dark city.”

“Hand took a breath and opened his palms, as if accepting the gift of rain. "YOU SHALL KNOW OUR VELOCITY!" he bellowed into the cold exhausted city.”

“Forest, I fear you! In my ruined heart your roaring wakens the same agony as in cathedrals when the organ moans and from the depths I hear that I am damned.”

“I've played every beer joint tavern from New York City out to Pasadena
Every corn dog fair and rodeo
And sold out every basketball arena
I like to get down with my boys in Afghanistan and Baghdad city too
I am a red, white and blue blood graduate of Honkytonk U.”