Oh take me where the people are
And let me run and play
I won't be here for long, I think
But maybe for a day

Just to feel better, he smoked his life away and now I am left here, picking up pieces of him from his ashtray.

If any duck in any brook,
Fluttering the water
For your crumb,
Seemed the helpless daughter

Of a mother
Regretful that she bore her;
Or of another,
Barren, and longing for her;

What of the dove,
Or thrush, or any singing mysteries?
What of the trees
And intonations of the trees?

What of the night
That lights and dims the stars?
Do you know, Hans Christian,
Now that you see the night?

I am on the highway
To hell's bells
And I'm pregnant
With devil's anger child
Taking a walk in solipsism park
Smoking some remedy
Breathing from asylum air
And where is he?
He is looking straight through me
And his soul is revealing
Its the cold fire
That is misleading
He is fighting in his sleep again
Hugging his skeletons again
Helpless child
Going for a rage war
Solus
Walking towards the kitchen
On this toes
Taking out all the knives
Counting them
And i know he likes numbers
He looks towards the sky
And the clouds confuses him
He pours out his blood
Drawing the letter A
Repeatedly
Not even obsessively
Justified in his judgement
Him and his vanity
In an alternate reality
Out of proportion
Full of distortion
This ******
And his bluejackets
Anchored me with his diaries
Walking on embers now
In a state of trance now
Makes me wonder
Are monsters born or created?
Mortem predestination
He keeps giving me this psychic vibe
From a foreign tribe
I can't just put a lid on it
I can't just turn my back on it
Run, everybody begged me
But with the beast clothed in human skin tonight
Outside the television Screen
We are wired the same tonight
Dancing to Electro Swing by his side
Tying his tie
And I like it
He reaches out for his wooden telegraph
Can't help but listen
To Maria
And all her chants
Makes him gaze into the same tall building
From that retro piano bench
He gets up
With his hands covered in blood
Summons me by the edge
Two A's drawn on a sketch
Standing by the line
The choice is all mine