My sable slipped down my face
Your husbands hands were a necklace
I was IX on my knees
I hid in the attic as far as limbs could get me
(from choke)

I am redamned and condemned
My fingers force through hoops to numerals and spin
You're finding redemption and bonds
One of dos is in the valley and the other in the chapel
One can hear your own applause

One hears the gnashing of the warming jaws Who states I waited for R-Day?
Someone lassoed down my lucky stars
What is a sore boy to do?
(My neck, nose, and eyes are blue)

The window in the corner is closed And there is no escaping the bruise