well it rained on the day that we died
and the garbage truck couldn’t give a fuck
as the moment of truth did arrive
camouflaged in a curtain of tears
and the wine we had didn’t taste so bad
in fact it tasted fine, considering the time
just one kiss on my lips I am sleepy
hold my hand, stay by me
lay your head upon my knee
take us home to a place we belong
in the back of a car, it can’t be that far
’bout a half a mile, we’ll be there in a while…
on the morning of our suicide
we made our beds and the cats were fed
and we cancelled the telephone line
and all that was cloudy went bright
as each of our faces turned white
but I must confess, as her summer dress
went see-through in the light, it really was a sight…
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