Life has long since fled your flesh,
banished by the sharp crunch of broken disco records through your chest,
yet you are innocent of death,
your soul dwells in darkness,
yet your eyes are tormented by the bride strobe light haunting this chemical treatment plant,
you are dead yet you live,
your mind is a shattered thing yet you move with purpose,
you wish you could lay down and die,
but all you can do is get down and get funky,
its not your heart beating,
its that disco beat that makes you move,
you are disco dog and you are a zombie.
The inside of this pot shows disco dog chopped up into little pieces getting sucked into the infinite vortex of life and death.