The dead girl mopes through a dead scene   With a cross-stitched lip she's picking at the seams   She's got bravado she says she's been   Featured in a few magazines      Outside the bar Hank is straddling a police car   His fingers are purple and numb from circling crow bar   Well, twenty-four years have made it clear   That things ain't ever what they appear      Now, now, he says, "I won't be going easily   No, I won't be going lightly   And I won't be going peacefully   No, I won't be going innocently"      A sweet drink spiked with a speed ball   A twenty foot ladder and a ninety foot wall   Dark shadows are gathering   And swaggering down the hall      And I know, I won't be going easily   No, I won't be going lightly   And I won't be going peacefully   No, I won't be going cleanly