The angel with the black eyes in the script that I ripped up,
came back to haunt the pens I use.
I thought I knew her well, had undressed and pressed the cartridge ink but now I think,
creation's just a demon that stupefies the mind of men.
So,
now I'm very careful even fearful of my imaginings
djinns and genies mean me harm,
no lamps can light my way.

I cut to the phone and with the lead around my neck
my therapist says,
'go home and have a rest'
he thinks that he knows best but he doesn't know I'm not paying him,
one more genie
one more djinn
the demon eyes me,begins to grin
I'm scoring well
three more points for free entry to hell.

The angel with the black eyes,
I should have given her wings,
sings to me of a mutiny.
The genie laughs
the djinn drinks gin
and heaven is closed
they won't let me in.