(no subject)
Travelling artists master the trapeze or such a single was created around it, and this single this ludicris self expression granted them their opertunity at screaming in front of angsty youths in dingy clubs. It was the time they were trapped in a bank huddled under tables and ten pound bags of gold. They were pleading for their lives, and the men in masks did not care. A eulogy with a fiddle was pronounced, and it was a boy who helped them. They devised a situation to escape the masked thieves. And it was a young boy who persuaded them that he be a distraction. They of course refused. But the child stayed with them. And finnaly it was that the child stood up and made a distraction of himself. He was shot in the face. The bloodlets falling like confetti over crisp paper bills of afluence. They reacted like caged predators, the bandits made a plea for forgiveness and escaped only to be shot upon and tried. The band escaped and their lives were changed. They were aloud to live so that one child who was a fan gave up his life. That even his paretns would not indentify is face which had been blown away by cannons of hostility and perversion. And it did stay with them. And their every waking moment was devoted to the morbid reality that they were alive because. A year later one of them had killed themselves, never accepting that in actuality they could never make it up to the child by living a good life. Never being able to make it up to him. Without anything except the memory of the single.