Dazed,
All of my blood on the pillow,
And she says, It's late, you must go,
If we meet again try not to faint in my hallway,
And don't throw my mirror around.
- Seven years of bad luck coming round.
Ambulance for one,
I've had all I can take,
What pretty shapes these lines make.
Have you met my friend,
He says his name is Tim,
Take him home and kill him.
Dances in rain in the garden.
He's laughing with his membranes all torn.
And a great battered face leers back at me from the mirror,
Melting in the heat and the noise.
- Yes, I think I'll crack now.
Ambulance for one,
I've had all I can take,
What gloomy shapes her thighs make.
Have you met my friend,
He says his name is Tim,
Take him home and kill him.
