In a room without furniture
She lies on a mattress
Her blanket has slid off
She’s coloured her nipples black
Soon she’ll feel his breath
Like swells aganist a shore
Living on memories of
Ships that have passed by
Ships that have passed by
She’ll rub her eyes and get up
Gaze through the window
Wash herself in the gutter
Smiling out of tune
In a town full of emptiness
She picks up a rag
She ties it around her bones
And starts looking for a cane
Thinking life’s a simile
Ans death a metaphor
She’s making images of
Ships that have passed by
Ships that have passed by
Long gone is his breath now
She barely feels her own
At the cliff she longingly scouts for
Ships that have passed by
Ships that have passed by
Ships that have passed by
Ships that have passed by
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