Midnight clapped her hands.  Found us watching from 
the tower, keeping us safe from master plans.  

State your business formalities.  Doormen looking 
mean in front of velvet ropes.  Weren't we all 
invited to this turn of events?  No one told me 
about a dress code.  

You'll have to forgive my nonchalance.  I've been 
caught up in the fold.  I'm here to make merry 
with the royal couple, to tell tales they don't 
want told.  

The address on my invitation, doesn't match any 
numbers around here.  I could take that as a 
subtle hint, but I'd rather just make it clear.  
You are welcome in my alleys, nobody will ever 
turn you away, and there's no minimum I've 
ever heard of, but that's neither here nor there.  

The settling in has begun.  Creature comforts 
on a catered tray.  Flowing with a rhythm, 
token glances toward a direction, motives gone 
astray.  

The century is turning, shaken down to the core.  
And I'm waving my dirty laundry and I'm wearing 
my dirty words, and I'm claiming a territory, 
planting stakes in mockingbirds.  A firmly 
held message of survival.  A scroll for the 
believers.