You're the Coliseum

They're more prepared to deal with pain perhaps

Than you could be in all your life's long years

The lazy lip of sea, it calmly laps

Beneath the looming disco's tens of tears

Or sure their fondest love is for a fake

An obviously fake contrived ideal

In hotels high above the foaming lake

Above bone plates he'd tie with lamb and veal

And breathing smoke since folded into air

And waving bills since spent on kid's grand schools

Some fat cat calculated it right there

The thing they'd turn so selflessly such tools

The polished plate betrays a vacant host

But they're more prepared to deal with pain than most