Her head's full of lonesomeness
Her heart stained with oil.
She's sliding on a streaked slab
And no one knows her.
Metal rides the wind
Oil splashes into her eyes.
Her glare destroys the playground
Smoking in a burnt-out Buick.
She wants nothing near.
She walks away from the world.
She presses a fossil of love to her forehead.
She feels like an empty gun.
Oh come to me, love
Let me bathe you in dreams
And cover you in the black filthy oil
Of my failure and success.
There is no closure. Death is the closure, if nothing else.