Standing at dawn, watching the end ‒ of beauty, identity, immunity. The end is something to live for, Vancouver's an empty bottle. Our dying thirst causing problems. We stand at dawn, the beginning of something, heartfelt, replaceable. Two-day booze, works faster. My city on the water, spots of flame, midnight rain. The glass sky reflects our prize. Glass towers for sleepers; they're dying. Broken city for dreamers. Two-day booze works a faster fuse. Two-day booze works faster. Feels like falling. Shame, like killing. Homeward bound. Tension rising. Children of tomorrow; earth's new rapists. Spring rain comes; wash away the purpose. Between our days, empty distance sways. Copper wires pay, for days and days. What are we waiting for?