la-la land

It’s a cliché to say,

But plastic people prevail,

In this town that we call L.A.

And the angels of this city

Had better be mindful

Of a pertinent little ditty.

And mindful they’d best be,

More so of altitude

Than they are now, of velocity.

Because plastic wings melt

In temperatures at heights

That they have never felt.

And a ladder to the top

Is a pass to the bottom

When the cleaver brings the chop.

And plastic people smile bright

And plastic people melt

When they reach new heights.

And molten plastic will run free

Through the streets the day that we

Finally reach the top of the forbidden tree.