I'ts Midnight in the City of Angels while
decent citizens sleep the sleep of the righteous,
Hollywood lounges are having with hard liquor and the thick smoke of cigars.
Outside, street posts cast shadows across the edroded pavement,
rain drips from man's trench coats, and the femme fatale lures us intro her world and seduction.
Appearance is everything. Beauty is a curse.
Where decadence is juxtaposed with decay...
things are not what they seem.