Why am I sick to heart; if you can't
take this, you can't take me. That
was your skin, remember, I was
peeling off you just a little while
back. Not that you'd recall all
these dead-man ways.
The characteristics of this room
are walls and doorways. The
things I want in are the things
you've brought out. How can
we make the two meet?
Over by that Lambertville bridge,
I was making a game of your
slight figure. Turn, turn, to the
wind and the rain. I have
nothing more left
to give you.