An old man lives in a white house
Outside his house there is a bed of flowers
The old man’s life is in its twilight hours

I feel sad for the old man
Because he dawns on every day
And all his friends are dead or gone away

There’s a young woman who puts food upon his plate
And every time she turns her back his pupils visibly dilate
I’ve seen it - how the old man skins her with his eyes
She tells him soothing lies
About how long his heart has left
The old man craves a solitary death

The young woman wears a wooden cross around her neck
The old man cannot eat white bread
And all his friends are gone away or dead
And that’s no way to be
Wouldn’t you agree?

One old man in a white house with the desire to commit
One young woman in a chair on the front porch with her throat slit
That’s no way to go
That young woman is as white as snow
No glass coffin for her, though

Bun an old man’s wounds ache deep
He goes inside to drip and weep
And later that night sings with shining angels in his sleep