The orange chair gathers dust
The long empty chambers bubble quietly
The blue machinery is quiet
emptied four years ago
Silent in mourning
Of the loss of their owner
Still has the blueprints
Of countless contraptions
To capture the blue speedster
And make his town lazy again
Banana peels and nets
The former beginning to smell
The latter unravelling
Thrown around the floor
Like worthless pieces of trash
Around the countless machinery
Slowly rusting
Not being able to do their one job
Without pay
Creating evil plans
Be it getting more of himself
Or disguising himself
He always had something
Not anymore
He was number one
He said it himself
And he always will be
Within our hearts