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The stars are alive tonight. A beautiful sky tonight. He'll draw the curtains tight. He's here... She's not alone tonight, this and every night. The devil's man inhales her soul, so it goes. You'd think after 23 years she could rest her fears but this is not a dream and he is the ugly thing we've known about. We know about... But we never called it out. Eventually she flew away to NYC where she could breath more easily. Selling herself for fodder on the streets. And still the devil's man clings, screaming, "What about me?" Screaming, "What about me?" These days she calls me all strung low with everyone's favorite disease. In-between the screaming, the beatings...she's as happy as can be. She's as happy as can be. Or so she tells me. Right. Isn't that right? Right. Right. Isn't that right?
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