she liked to steal old matches
her soul drenched in Santal
thoughts deeper than the canyons,
slurred in her sozzled calls

with rose gold colored eyes,
she grabs your rusty match tin
but if you hand your heart to her
you won't see that again

she hides in her rose bathtub
silk bathrobe, as expected
builds castles made of bubbles
and hearts that she's neglected

I'm with Jack and his brother Jim
We got together on a whim
I think I've spent to much time with them

My vision is getting blurred
I'm having problems being heard
My speech is slurred

They tasted so very good
I'd drink more of them if I could
But I don't think I should

Because walking has become a chore
The door I did expore
That's how I ended up on floor