I saved a junky oncenFrom falling out of a treenFrom tumbling, plumming to the peach-like nGround I reachnnOnce a flood, and once the flunDeath sits on a neighbour’s facenA victim on every cornernNot one gives the blues a chancennOh, and it spoils the dalliance of my palmnThat I should go on ringingn‘Til it cracks my bellnThat there should be no differencenBetween blue plumsnAnd Hell.