Angels in America

This is an interpretation of a photo taken by a friend. Credit to the original photographer.

The millennium is over, man.
The millennium is over.
Perestroika!
Perestroika!

We are free,
the millennium of subjugation is over
as we stare at these angels
these bright points of lights of the city
the grand metropolis of the cities
buildings and the cars and all, bright stars
they're angels
and this is America.
These are angels in America, man.
Angels in America.

We have struck
The goldmines of reality
Of liquid gold
And Lapis Lazuli

Do you see it, like i do,
the city of lights
Not buildings with lights
Buildings of light
Whose glow is eternal
Like all ours?
Do you?

The rock of West
Shines
Confuses
Befuddles
Threatens to derail our reality
To a much more everyday
(albeit slightly exciting and happening, they say)
What is it?

A ship that crashed
Unfortunately,
Or a landmark,
an unfortunate one
would you say?

In it we see
the grand bazaars of the imperial worlds
Not bygone but those on the forthcome
Electric buzz buzzes by
Seduces -- really-- seduces
And with all this
we watch
mouths open, gaping
staring
incapable of coherent thought
we see, we just see
and blank.

Technology,
you say -- this is technology
We know, you and I and all of us
It's magic.

The Thaums mingle around with their pals
As they joyfully run around.
So they glow, bright, brighter, even brighter
Red, orange yellow and white
And then as things are well done
A cool blue.

Blue, man, blue.
Our futures ahead may be red and white
But they have always been
Blue.