A burgundy heart pounds under the cedar of her chest
Like a grandfather clock, she cries out at midnight
Inside the plush, velvet canopy where she lays to rest,
Mechanical begging in the silver moonlight.

Sensations and textures overtake our heroine, unaware
As death watches from the wardrobe in awe
And the darkness cloaks his silhouette as he stares
Flirting with death, she screams ‘ah-ah-ah-ah-ah’

Push the threshold when all alone,
In the comfort of her own home
Nobody to answer to, nowhere to go
Cinnamon fingernails, she can’t say no.


She avoids the eyes in the light of the day,
But yearns for the freedom of the cabaret.
Heavy bronze curtains conceal secret ***
No one need know how she tempts death.


Magenta, and lavender, black and then red
All of the colors that rush through her head
The closet’s a coffin in the glow of a candle
Death as her ******? Imagine the scandal!

Push the threshold when all alone,
In the comfort of her own home
Nobody to answer to, nowhere to go
Cinnamon fingernails, she can’t say no.

Once she reaches as far as she can take,

Her knuckles glitter with liquid quartz
Slowly, from heaven she seems to wake
Cheating hell with la petite mort.