When I woke up, I did not listen to what the poem told me to write down
I was being led into a defused pachinko shrine guarded by dire wolves

The poem claimed its author was Yellow Money and that everyone was acting
                foolishly
Rain-cloaked streets, dirty underwear posters, and stenciled exhaust pipes

I was being led into a defused pachinko shrine guarded by dire wolves
The poem added a softcore soundtrack of copulating lizards falling to earth