She sat in a wicker chair, her eyes they were downcast
She breathed in the future, by breathing out the past
The die is done, the die is shook, the die is duly cast
There is a dead man in my bed, she said
That smile you see upon his face
It's been there for many days
There's a dead man in my bed
I ain't been feeling that good too much no more, she said, I swear
She pointed at the bedroom door and said I ain't going in there
She leaped out of her seat and screamed someone's not concentrating here
There is a dead man in my bed, she said
I ain't speaking metaphorically
window
wicker
breathed
stick
keeps
calling
metaphorically
incessantly
something
hands
phone
smile
going
future
leaves
feeling
appalling
concentrating
falling
chair
pointed
bedroom
waved
brown
shook
atmosphere
breathing
notes
kitchen
outside
those
utterly
speaking
downcast
gotta
cannot
together
leaped
nobody
fucking
poking
rattling
could
refuses
screamed
smells
swear
though
taking
there
thick
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