I spilled some blood on the bathroom floor, mama,
But I swear it was an accident.
See, my hand slipped across porcelain, mama;
My skin tore like satin.

The paint flowed like a river then, mama,
And colored me a crimson sunset.
Oh, but it made such a mess, mama,
And I know messes make you upset.

So close your eyes, mama,
'Cause you're weeping red and the tears might stain.
Red for your lost love and red for scarlet fire,
and red for the young rose cut from the briar.

Maybe now I could be poetry, mama
The type you wrote about in your younger days.
Golden sun swallowed in carmine, mama
With its last rays dying in a blaze.

Look up when you feel
The stars have stopped shining
Lost for words left
Hanging suspended
Not emitting their glow
Yearning for the light to
Cover them head to toe

I could do it.

I have no concern for myself anymore
The only thing that keeps my heart beating
Is knowing that if it stopped
It would break yours