I stare at walls and see her there
A flower-printed love affair
Her azure-striped and plastered hair
Are cracked but perfect, everywhere.
Her skin of beige, it ripples soft
Across my palms when I get lost
I feel her smooth and supple skin
When I can't think and need to sin.
But here is now, and now is then
I'm staring at my walls again
Each one reminds me of the face
Of fallen angels barred from grace.
I see her in my head
I see her on my walls.