My lungs are feeling no more pressure
My heart is beating straight as clock
There is no way to hide this awful leasure
Of making nothing 12 o'clock.
My soul was hanging on the ceiling
My breath was calm and though unrest
My eyes try to see her but failing
I understand I need a rest.
I feel a raven flying up there
I feel piranhas swimming down
And far beyond in darkness somewhere
I feel a death looking right down.
So in the window there's a shadow
Who's laughing with her gothic laugh
And up a milky-silver dado
On pedestal there is my love.
It's time for me to make decisions
To choose between my life and death
There are two close-shape dispositions
I hold a breath and choose the death.