The day came down, through the roof
On a bed, lowered down, he was a limping crook.
She looked in the mirror, attached her arms

Put on her head, locked in her legs.
Undone, unnerved, misunderstood
Untouched, undead, until today.
Crazy from fever, phlegm from cash
He was smelling like Saturday night ash.
Down the staircase, through the double doors
an escape stepped on the dance floor.
And in the slumber of the moviehouse
She felt the kick in her belly of a way out.
She took her gift
and she used it in the wrong way
A simple ache, come too late
A simple ache, come too late

She refused to be a refugee
Renounced, reliving dead marquees.
Alive, she cried, and offered bribes
A pass, at last, an exile.
She took her gift
and she used it in the wrong way
A simple ache, come too late
A simple ache, come too late

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