My sable slipped down my face    Your husbands hands were a necklace    I was IX on my knees    I hid in the attic as far as limbs could get me    (from choke)      I am redamned and condemned    My fingers force through hoops to numerals and spin    You're finding redemption and bonds    One of dos is in the valley and the other in the chapel    One can hear your own applause       One hears the gnashing of the warming jaws Who states I waited for R-Day?    Someone lassoed down my lucky stars    What is a sore boy to do?    (My neck, nose, and eyes are blue)       The window in the corner is closed And there is no escaping the bruise