On the hill adorned in dew,
I miss seeing you through your den of verse.
In the clinic stall they've confined me to.

Loose the noose I wear and I'll run away with you.
All riled,
Night's young,

I lunge,
Gutted on hospice gates.
Into these rooms,

Your bawdy verses boom.
"If you don't know me now,
You'll know me soon."

All riled,
Night's young,
I lunge,

Gutted on hospice gates.