I think she could have told ya
when the night cried on your shoulder
and the weight of the world brought you down to your knees, but she's just a scene in a pipe dream or a ******* that frequents you now and again.

whispers from the wardrobe
strobe lights in your hair
matchstalk men and Lowry
somewhere over there
and
you're still asleep as cowboys weep
at barbed wire fences on the range.

Strange and stranger still are those things you do against your will and you wonder who is pulling the strings.