Let Them Eat Cake (The Guillotine) (late 1980's)

The music assaulted the crowd
They held their drinks lightly, tilted
Their faces were contorted, screaming intimate thought
Bowling each other over with revelation after revelation
A cavalcade of cacaphonous cascading confessionals
The words leapt from their mouths,
Never reaching their deaths.
Cartoon bubbles that popped but somehow held
Ridiculous words over their heads.
These words wouldn't be released from their
Weightless capacity, the alcohol streamed
down their throats making them forget
many things, but these would remain.
Perhaps it was the volume, or the cigarette smoke,
or maybe the music that blew their hair back
and pinned their ears to the wall:
Maybe these things kept those words above them,
those letters reminders of the sparkling stream
of lies and quarter-truths, elliptical embellishments,
acts of courage perfected over so many parties and
that one funny story that gained a new character
each time it was told, it sagged under the
weight of its growing populace who were by now tiring of
accomodating new influences in what was to them
an already excruciating tale.
Whatever posted those words above their heads
had the right idea. Expose. Reveal.
Now all that's left is to pull the rug out, let
those captive lies ransom their captors into truth.
Let those words sharpen their blades and stop
the noise of the party, startling each into silence
when the punchline cuts the head off of its
delivery boy.