Chasing fantasies

Chasing fantasies down dark streets.
Persuing them past familiar faces.
Before wild jungles where ghosts
and maniacs dwell underneath
the chattering canopy.

Behind two hot walls that signify
each side of my want.
The hills of the crazy jungle beg me to enter, oh I.
I the son who was lost on the family picnic.
Who lived off fern root and grubs until I could hunt.
I kidnapped by the distant ghost that non could see but I.
Machines and bricks have their appeal,
though the jungles heart beats it all.

So into town to claim a few spoils my mind as
warm as my stomach chasing fantasies.
Smooth I choose my prey like the one eyed wotan
on his way.
Nothing but my crazed desires and a long sharp blade.