Router 66
Somewhere off the data highway
Quite close to router sixty-six
There’s a ghost town of splintered glass.
A graveyard of useless stones and bricks.
This is where the glitterati lived
They used to come in rumbling hoards
Stumbling through automatic doors
they walked the aisles of shiny floors
Here is where the threads unwound
Where all that’s left are rags
Desolation Boulevard
Of broken dreams and empty shopping bags
Nothing there but skeletal racks
Dust settled on the empty tills
The ghosts of Maude and Elsie drift
The faint aroma of perfume spills
You might catch the glimpse of shop workers
In the broken dirty glass
Of counter tops and changing room mirrors
A chilling glimpse of Christmas past
Here is where the threads unwound
Where all that’s left are rags
Desolation Boulevard
Of broken dreams and empty shopping bags
When the fat rats left the sinking shop
And took this city’s beating heart
They never once looked back in shame
At the forsaken empty shopping cart
The lure of profits and filthy lucre
Mixed with rubble, mildew and grime
When the cowards left the building
Sacrificing workers for a dime
Here is where the threads unwound
Where all that’s left are rags
Desolation Boulevard
Of broken dreams and empty shopping bags
BREAK
Somewhere on the data highway
A fashionista buys her clothes
Over the hill from router sixty-six
She wonders where that old trail goes
Here is where the threads unwound
Where all that’s left are rags
Desolation Boulevard
Of broken dreams and empty shopping bags
Here is where the threads unwound
Where all that’s left are rags
Desolation Boulevard
Of broken dreams and empty shopping bags
