the carcass of the mall splays out and festers in decay
the once white paints have faded first to yellow then to gray
the fountains changed from crystal jets to pools of fetid slime
but there inside the old gamestop remains a friend of mine
his cardboard silhouette stands guard, protecting lesser cards
the mildewed chunks of pikachu, the tattered charizards
my friends called him "the worst of all", "the creepy pokemon"
yet he alone could go past death and see what lay beyond
his hair still blue, his gloves still white, untouched by weight of time
the king of a forgotten land, the famous mister mime
i see in him a fisher king, but only in reverse
he only lives and glows with life part of a foul curse
he is what doomed the mall to die, the corpse that can eternal lie
inside the grave that holds the past and i, inside, am just the last
to crawl inside this rotten tomb, a child yearning for a womb
that will not fit! too much has changed!
the past is gone and im deranged!
if this is then, then where is now?
the past bleeds up and then we drown
in memory, in pantomime,
in silent depths of ancient time
pretending to be what we're not
surrounded by a world of rot
the mime is me. the mime is you. the mime will fester like mildew
and spread beyond the mall one day
to feast upon some new decay.
