These four tavern walls
house the time travelers.
Folks who relish in going back
to those days of bright lights and sound.
Sweet songs of fame pulled them in,
hope and luck in every sparkling eye
despite their empty pockets.
But they all return in due time
To a dwelling of mold and rubble,
To quiet nights and dusty photos,
To a town fallen off the map,
The land of dead sirens.
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