As sun and dove devr bat and moon- If we stay on this road we'll find religion soon I plant the seeds that flower in veins- And destine down blacklit bathroom drains Of sacraments and ends- Dead in a ditch, death is the friend buried beneath drugged skin My stand became a lean verse cigarette machine- Could cocaine candy console crippled children cavitied? The tears of flesh death burns- Now a mis-centered mantelpiece in a porcelain urn But what words will witches sing- While warlocks pluck away all day at their broken heartstring I took some gun from some sick hand Said "Count to ten" Oh, "On, Two, Three..." "Fuck it, I don't care." And all of us widowed wives Discussing Dimensions in dream homes we hide And it's not fair These afairs are all I had, it's sad I had to lie Forget it I get it I guess it's true- I'd make a boring bride