A midnight game of hide-and-seeknWithin the cemetery gatesnFace pressed against nocturnal fieldsnWhere granite headstones congregatennI am not scared in this moonless nightnEveryone here admits they’re dead insidenCorpses below whisper their alibisnExplaining wasted livesnnSo where were you on that stormy night?nIs there a witness who can testifynThat you didn't take your own lifenAnd hide the body by the turnpike?nnWe are hollownAgents of neednWe reap the comfort while the Third World bleedsnThis will not change until we start to breathenUntil we start livingnnI bought a dozen rosesnAnd I put on my nicest clothesnI'm trembling, but I look goodnI'm ready to seduce my soulnnHere is a timenHere is a chancenTo give my life some romancenAnd to be greater than the living deadnnFill up the neighborhoods with artnMake theaters in our own backyardsnLaugh like you need it to survivenSing just to prove that we’re alivenWe’re alivennThis is our timenThis is our chancenTo give our lives some romancenHave more to say than just nodding our headsnnThis is my timenThis is my chancenI'm breaking out of this trancenClimbing out of this hospital bednnPark path concretenWords in chalk challenged men“This is yours, so take it back”nForge artistry or live passionlesslynThis life is minenI want it back!