Carthago Est Delenda

To Carthage then I came as a young boy lost in the promise Of the steady beating heart of the metropolis But I spent so long beneath the dim street lighting That I strained my eyes and lost the finesse of my fine hand-writing It’s not like I need it these days – my letters home have been getting shorter I can’t concentrate if I can’t secure a source of clean water But there’s never a drop to drink in the concrete furrows My anger is Vesuvius casting its shadow I spent too long walking across bridges failing to appreciate the sweating river’s flow escaping, Leaving the city streets tinderbox-dry and oh-so-tempting My fatigue is San Andreas shuddering slow I mark my lintel with bloodstains And dream of suburbs up in flames Every evening when I arrive back at home And finally lock my front door, Carthago Est Delenda, And the pavements are beaches once more But in the morning when my alarm wakes me, The concrete is back in its place As I trudge through the streets at the break of day, It’s the river that calls me away The river flows outside of town, Away from dirt, away from crowds, And if I could follow it to the sea I’d wash the sweat right off of me So break my legs and weigh me down, Throw me in, but I won’t drown – I’ll float away, go down the stream The river flows outside the city --- Carthago Est Delenda - Million Dead