A Velvet Skyline in Chicago's Horizon

Oh Chicago, how you eat its young with passion in the night.

Oh Chicago, how you reveal a love soliloquy from Frank himself.

Oh Chicago, are you fond of the velvet skyline you inhabit?
For it is a texture unlike any other metropolis, it is oneself.

 

Oh Chicago, I see a world beneath a world of substantial progress.

Oh Chicago, your crime revolutionized and patronized your public.

Oh Chicago, are you aware the standards of a midwestern misfit bewilder us?

For it is a city of surplus, without a relative crop republic.

Oh Chicago, the horizon splits the blistering sun into fourths.

Oh Chicago, a street by the name of Harrison takes a piece of sunlight.

Oh Chicago, do colors vividly plaster through your grand towers in streaks?

For it is revealed a land of roses rest, thorns pierce with might.

 

Oh Chicago, the walking paradoxes that haunt you release misunderstood ghosts.

Oh Chicago, the unlikely kinship of your light and darkness is equal.

Oh Chicago, does your softness find tranquility within the roughness

For all I see is velvet along the horizon, there will be no sequel.

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