Soft pile carpets wall to wall.nThey're splashing in the pool.nThey fornicate in cornersnand they're moaning in the haze.nIt isn't love, it's just the smoke.nThe jokes are bad, the laughs are cruelnand Jenny swung a knife.nThe statues came to life,nthe stone swords crunching into heads.nThe carpet turning red.nThe neon gladiators are sparring sparring on the lawnnand trampling on the roses -nthey make the hostess bawl.nThe walls are cracking.nDetectives leapt from TV screens,nthey are screaming freeze!, their fingers itching.nDucking as a chandelier comes crashing down.nWhile somewhere in another town,na finger pressed a knob, changed the channel,nwiped a flannel across his face and danced.nDance divine, dance in sequins.nHere come the neon gladiators!