Dead-eyed paper dolls watch me wrapped in breath of deep pain
I unravel my tear-stained hands, to then close weary eyes
To dream dreams of broken halos, and murdered lover
Broken halos that sit across my lap like ghosts of death
The taste of hunted flesh, as they then searched for we two.
All because she then left home at 16 years with unborn child
I am being attacked on the thirteenth floor of hell.
If it’s true that Angels believe in ghosts, then think of me
For my life is now a spasm of living pain in deepest hell
And very soon I shall join my forbidden love in death.