Sunlight only shows up the
streaks in the dust and she throws
that up in my face,
'why don't you clean up?,
'clean up or clear out'

I really hate the Sun.

But I must learn to shut up and
shut out the chatter and plan where
I'll scatter the ashes.

Love's quite peculiar
more than often
spectacular when she
drains me of blood and
I believe that she's Dracula
( in drag)

and what else could I do
but fall deeply and dreamily
in love with
someone like you?

( well
I could have gone fishin' )

here's wishin' she doesn't see this one
or I'll be wishin' it was me
that was dead and gone

I really hate the Sun.