Supa-Novacaine

On either side of Route Guano lie Long stretches of desert harsh and dry, That clothe the world and meet the sky; And through the sand the road runs by To many-tower'd Battery; And up and down the blindos go, Gazing where the leaflets blow Down the dark ally there below, The Lady who sings out. Only cleaners, cleaning early, Down amongst the empty city Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the street that winds so clearly; Down to structured tower home; And by the moon a cleaner weary, Sweeps the streets he "loves" so dearly Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fearless Lady who sings out. There she sings by night and day A magic

Making her way across the crowded dancefloor, Nova stumbled slightly; the combination of the drinks she had downed in the past hour, the heavy bassline reverberating through the floor, and the flailing limbs that kept threatening to hit her were not making it easy to remain upright. Finally managing to push her way past the last few couples hovering at the edge of the floor, she succeeded in almost tripping up the stairs. Cursing, she steadied herself on the banister and hesitantly made her way up to the raised seating area, taking care to stay balanced on her heels and avoid the spilt drinks reflecting the pulsing lights from the decks below

We're radioactive Perfectly toxic Completely unstable We're burning the sky Psychopharmacology has got me feeling fine Forget the side effects and get straight back into line Acid rain is falling, pH is getting low The gas clouds are advancing so I think it's time to go! Experimentation, Cryogenic instigation It's a Chemical Romance This is our last chance All the genetic mutation and we're spliced down to the bone They break down the door, but there ain't nobody home. Static on the airwaves, fire storm is on it's way. They said it wouldn't happen yet, but it's here today! Nuclear reaction Chemical traction It's too late for

Isolation was not working out at all for the owner of The SnakeBite Club. No one had been to the club for over a week now. The desert roads were empty and her radio had broken. She was completely alone. Nova lay in the middle of the dance floor, praying for someone to walk through the large orange double doors, but no one came. The fluorescents were off, the only light came from a small window about the doors. The only sound was her breathing and the quiet hum from the refrigerator under the bar. The silence hurt her ears and the boredom hurt her head. She knew that she was quite close to relinquishing all control of her mind which, although

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Zones Not a Killjoy was stirring, or even Bli/nd drones The rayguns were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that the draculoids wouldn't appear. The motorbabies were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of jukeboxes danced in their heads. And Poison in his 'kerchief, and I in my boots, Were guarding the diner from draculoid brutes. When out from the desert there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the car to see what was the matter. I hid behind the Trans Am, I flew like a flash, Prepared to turn that Bl/ind employee to ash. The moon on the sand of the desert arou