Bystander Bop

On a cold New York night, we killed ourselves a cat
Kitty screamed as we ran her through, stabbed her in the
Back, her hands, worse. Old Man Mozer shouted out his
Window, “Let that girl alone!” and prying eyes stopped
Us for a minute, but we came back, always do
Prying eyes and a shout ain’t worth shit. Words are cheap

I knew they wouldn’t do anything, people never do

The rising body count is an experiment
To test the limits of self-identity. (Are
You exceptional now? Where’s your big stick, tough guy?)
All the world watching, shouting, “Let that girl alone!”
(Really, all it takes is a little sarin to
Goad you to throw one punch, shout “Mission Accomplished!”)
(You call it a pugilistic attitude, but
Brother, the dead wear it like a prayer position)

I knew they wouldn’t do anything, people never do

One punch only ends a fight in the cartoons. Talk
Won’t bring the dead back to life, won’t scare us off of
Killing another cat. But on a cold New York
Night, that’s all you’ve got, heads looking out of windows,
And every last one has so many pretty words
But bystanders averting their gaze ain’t worth shit

I knew they wouldn’t do anything, people never do

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