Eyelids pry to stranger light...
I have not seen this room before
Nor this bed, stained sheets of white
Which may mostly upon the floor
Who is this woman in the mirror
That strokes her hair of red?
Oh, I wish my thoughts were clearer
Avast my dizzy head!
She turns to break my slumber
But steals my eyes instead
I glimpse her hand, a number...
It's mine written in red
For I do not recall our night
Nor the moments that had followed
"Do not heed the words that took flight,
They are all but vacant and hallowed."
"I'm sorry but I have to go,"
I speak with weary breath
She says, "Then you need to know-
I'm the advocate of death."
"What nonsense that you speak!"
In my words I do confide.
She looks at me and smiles
Then slithers to my side.
Although her words I fear,
I am caged by my own choice
She leans in towards my ear
And says in a wispy voice,
"In the alley lays your body...
Your scars missed by the cold."
"You came to me for fixing
And that's exactly what I sold."
"You see now Mr. Bunk?"
"Your body was filled with holes
And every time you shot that junk
It crept into your soul."
With nothing else to lose
I place my feet upon the floor
And no way for me to choose
I walk towards the only door
As the door **** begins to turn
I hear the sound of angels crying
And this pen and paper that burns
Will be missed more
Than the soul that's dying.