My death is like. A swinging door. A patient girl who knows the score. Whistle for her. And the passing time My death waits like. A bible truth. At the funeral of my youth. Weep loud for that.
She stands all alone. You can hear her hum softly. From her fire escape in the sky. She fills the bags 'neath her eyes. With the moonbeams. And cries 'cause the world's passed her by Didn't time