Please save me from the inner thoughts of mine
That chop and chisel from my bones so fine
A powder which Nostalgia collects in tiny black glasses
That decorate the mantel of his fireplace

The thoughts of mine that bring me to a darkened room
To witness those deeds which the bones in my hand preformed
My conscience once so clean and pure now stained with his red blood
Which did so stain the white sheets of his bed

Oh heavens hear my cry and act!
As ruthlessly as thou allowed me to do that night
Please take my thoughts from me and quicken the chops
To my skeleton that I may not think again.