Grinderman

23. Ned's Escape Plan

Heat welds gum to the sidewalk, lipstick smeared on chrome,
Marquee grins like bad teeth, silk legs on loan,
He sleeps in his car with a guitar and a rearview shrine,
Maps folded on dead ends and a tape deck coughing time.
Streetlight flickers like breath in a drowning lung,
Agent on the corner saying, Kid, you’re too young.
But the mirror shows every unpaid mile,
And the lines all rehearsed like a man on trial.

Headshots pinned like bugs under glass,
Smiles stapled to a future already past.

Welcome to Palm Row, where your name stains tar,
Gold melted down, pawned for a shot of fame.
Each star chaser, another canceled show
Knees split open in the promise glow —
Palm Row.

Cheap motel halo buzzing red and blue,
Perfume masking sweat and last night’s cue.
She paints her mouth like a wound on fire,
Says Hollywood don’t love, it just hires.
Sirens glow on streets slicked hard with sin,
Couple in the diner trading dimes for skin.
Burnt script ash on cracked tile floors,
Smoke slipping out through the back door.

Billboards mock like a final blow,
Looking down on the broken dreams below.

Welcome to Palm Row, where the night chews shine,
Silver screen lies on dotted lines.
Every heartbeat a debt you owe,
And the rent comes due down Palm Row.

Welcome to Palm Row, where angels learn to rust,
Sequins in the gutter, diamonds in dust.
You chase the light till your ribs go cold,
Left out of breath on Palm Row.


Heathen Child

Grinderman

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