Clean

It takes Paul Owen five minutes to die,
Another thirty to stop bleeding;
I know, because I time it.
Afterwards, still wearing the bloodied raincoat,
I take a cab to Paul's apartment on the Upper East Side.
I let myself in with his keys.
A plan is taking shape in the folds of my brain,
But where should I send Paul on a business trip?
Rome, Amsterdam, Phoenix...

London!

I'll send the bastard to England!
His answering machine!

"Hi, This is Paul Owen!"
"Hi! This is Paul Owen!"
"I'm sorry I'm not here to take your call,
But I'm in London for the next two weeks,
Taking the Fisher account to the next level."

We are sinners.
Long-eyed sinners.
We are winners.
Wasted winner.
We are faceless.
Perfect faces.
We fixed the races.
And took our places.

But I'm clean
I've become clean
The things I've seen,
And still I'm clean.

Rise and shine,
Don't waste time.
Head to your terminals,
Head to the mines.
Present yourself as someone who knows
In which direction capital flows.
Make it happen,
Make it rain,
With conjuring and leisure domain.
Flash a smile,
Bear your teeth,
They'll never guess
What's underneath...