The day came down, through the roofnOn a bed, lowered down, he was a limping crook.nShe looked in the mirror, attached her armsnPut on her head, locked in her legs.nUndone, unnerved, misunderstoodnUntouched, undead, until today.nCrazy from fever, phlegm from cashnHe was smelling like Saturday night ash.nDown the staircase, through the double doorsnan escape stepped on the dance floor.nAnd in the slumber of the moviehousenShe felt the kick in her belly of a way out.nShe took her giftnand she used it in the wrong waynA simple ache, come too latenA simple ache, come too latennShe refused to be a refugeenRenounced, reliving dead marquees.nAlive, she cried, and offered bribesnA pass, at last, an exile.nShe took her giftnand she used it in the wrong waynA simple ache, come too latenA simple ache, come too late