When the violent gale creaked through the walls, we hailed the night as the first come: Our Right To Be (more than a remedy), but we shook our might with the fear shouting from the clouds.
I can’t forget all the things you said. I believed it all. I can’t forget the way it felt, the way you stripped me down and waited for my fall.
I heard the telling of a red rain from some creep whistling at the barmaid. I read the ramblings of a dead man, so, I tried to tell you what the pain makes but couldn’t make a sound.