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.