As I walked in the Valley of Sensation,
A place not definable with precision,
I saw The Fantasy as a Blake-like vision -
The feast of sultry Sloth was the occassion. [sic]
The gambler was there caressing degradation
Venturing madly for an ultimate shame
And he was the normal man with the responsible name
Among the business world's population.
The attitudes that gave routine protection
On shopping expeditions, public living
Had dropped - and there was Murder in this section,
And Suicide her lilywhite throats waving
And in every class of home cannibals
With the trophies of the orgy on their walls.
