Like animated corpses; the un-dead are drawn to this shrine
and they bow down to their goddess; the great goddess 'Commercialism'.
Lost in endless artificially lit corridors -
sentenced to walk these halls forever,
never knowing day from night
never to feel the rain on their faces
these lost souls are deemed never to return to the light.
These empty; emotionless creatures occasionally stop and stare into vast temples of capitalism;
these holly places, bright with neon; draw them in with promises of eternal indebtedness;
a debt they seem willing to pay
for with their carrier bags full with
a debt to their goddess - Commercialism'.
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