Cold, cold, cold shards of rain fall on the guillotine Im watching this storm from my cell, the lightnings like Gods claw A hungry priest with a box of rot spits blood in my cell I sigh once then cover my ears, Im sleeping Lonely girls who drink tears through straws watch my eyelids fall I wake to find Im tired again, I long to sleep in the motherly shade of the rusty guillotine The rusty blade calls to me promising to take me home Cold, cold, cold promises of rain are all I see on these walls I assumed my life would have a gallant end But now I see this life was a dead end
cold, guillotine, rusty, cell, motherly