window needs a dressing and the roster needs your blessing. and still I can believe it’s temporary. when you cross the doorway, we will reach our former glory. if you plan to confess. who’s been bleeding on your ceiling. I’m right. did she promise you that she’d need no life? do you think she’d make an understanding wife, always breathing through a straw? lightening strikes the chorus. if it’s frightening they’ll ignore us. on deaf ears it’ll fall. wind and windows. every waking hour is a countdown until I roll into bed. it’s a blessing, second guessing. I’m right. I know I’m right. if I could make myself stop breathing I would mean it this time.