A Twisted Admission Of Guilt 10/18/87

I watch as the comb runs
Thru your silken hair
And I'm catching all the strands that lfy
So high into the air
And now they are catching me
To save me from my fall
Slipping thru their grasp
They do not help at all
Pity on the broken window pane
That shows me what you do
Punish oh the scoundrel
Make him fix the window new
The rugs are spitting gossip
Into my fractured ear
And the walls laugh so hard
With their ever present sneer
Go you now and tell
All that you have heard
I'll be gone when you return
Oh now don't be so absurd
The writing on my shoe
Tells me that she is lost
Writing from my pen
Says press on at any cost