The Hollowed Out Chest Of a Dead Horse

I've seen you sitting in your bed,
In your brown gown of dead flowers.
And inside your room,
In its corners where spiders crawl,
And a sour dream centipede slips under your mattress until its time.
Oh, oh, gimme that back. i want my back, back.
Oh, your beauty.
Let it not, let it not.
Let it fucking not.
Lie down now if you please,
Darling, so i can do our world a service.
Dream, dream, and dream.