If you would permit me, I'd like to close the blinds, for
in only twenty minutes the sun is due to rise.
It tends to taunt the people
lamenting your position,
so if you would permit me,
I'd like to close the blinds.

If you would permit me, I'd like to sit a spell, and
wait until your eyelids close, and whisper, "Do farewell."
The love: Your veins are guiding to your heart,
to insulate its rooms,
so if you would permit me,
I'd like to sit a spell.

If you would permit me, I'd like to calm your nerves, for
excitement does accelerate, at least I have observed.
So please, for you, and yes, for me too,
just rest and close your eyes.
So if you would permit me,
I'd like to calm your nerves.

If you would permit me, I'd like to bid you tidings, for
no longer in these hallowed halls will your body be residing.
What seems like ending might not be so bleak,
for this galaxy cannot hold you.
So if you would permit me,
I'd like to bid you tidings.

1969 Cult Mentality: Charles Manson
is asking you to “leave a sign… something witchy” at the scene of the
crime.  You listen because you believe he is Jesus.  You smear the word
                                                                ­                           “Pig” across the door.

1978 Cult Mentality: Jim Jones
is asking you to drink grape Kool-Aid infused with cyanide.  You do this
because you have been convinced that he is “Christ the Revolution.” You
                                 inject your child with the toxin before gulping it down.

1997 Cult Mentality: Marshall Applewhite*
is asking you to tie a plastic bag around your head after you consume a mixture of phenobarbital, applesauce, and *****.  You do this because you believe dying will take you to the spacecraft flying behind
Comet Hale-Bopp.  You make sure you have a
five dollar bill and three quarters
                                                         in your pocket for the interplanetary toll.

If you’re Jim Jones, then I’m the drinker of the Kool-Aid
I will nod my head in submission and act unafraid
I shall follow in your footsteps and bow before your feet
For I am but a troubled girl who lacks a self-esteem

If you’re Charles Manson, then I’m your ardent devotee
My life, a mere sacrifice, for the desires of thee
Your love and approval is my only mode of existence
For I know nothing else, but am fearful of your distance

If you’re Marshall Applewhite, then I’m your Bonnie Lu
This world is blinded by sacrilege and doesn’t know the truth
So as the comet passes, and we are greeted by our deaths
I will kiss your cheek and say “you were worth my final breaths”

If you’re my spontaneous soulmate, then I am but a victim
For your sudden interest leads to a dangerous addiction
In a few weeks you will disappear and I will question why
While you tell your friends that you’re a "really nice guy”

And I will sit and wonder why you quickly lost interest
When I was unaware of your feelings of belligerence
After weeks of contemplation I will come to realize
That I too was but a sheep, that was herded on your lies