DOLLAR NOTES

Room and board and bored boarded windows
half dead, her and I tied to the bed
boarded up windows down in the cellar
We both broke free from the ropes of dead hopes
She ran and I yell and I tried to tell her
before she was caught again, before he could sell her
sought again, caught again, I tried to tell her
before he could resell her, I tried to tell her........
She runs down the hall as I holler and hollar
I call her and call her still wearing the collar
I follow her watching the awaiting fall of her
As she runs towards the fanatic maniac crack addict
waiting for her in the cracks  in the attic
Waiting for her........
Screaming out dollar notes, fantastically clear
into her seemingly plastic doll ear
closer and closer, but never quite near
I scream in a seemingly silent voice she can't hear
emphatic static as she flails erratic
madness for what is awaiting for her
 Buzzed-up answers screaming into muffled
 muzzled reverberations of newborn revelations
emerging from a fuzzy puzzle....
as she runs up towards  a new level
of tortured orchids of hoards singing
in and within out-of-tune chords bringing
writhing in pain as a pretty blood stain spreads
slowly out across the shit-stained bed instead
Like bright blooming petals of the newly born dead
.....and......and..... ahead......violence......
......and......and.....dead........silence........
    Six cents in a sick sense of sixth sense
    I tried to tell her, to write her a note
as we were tied to the bed without hope
....with a rope around our throat....
Broke-up and broken and broke.....
I gave her a few cents, and wrote her out a dollar note
It all made sense, until I awoke