underneath the stars as the moon shines bright
she lies on the balcony with words of fright
they say the diary was written in horror with a satirical tale of love
but in return, the dove was black and the cracks upon leather meant nothing but age and truth
the blue turns black and the stars twinkle their tune
the used believe their truth while the others believe the smooth
spoken with such confidence the neighbors play in their unconsciousness
a sad tune for her, the girl that always knew
the way she licked her cracks and said that all would lapse
but never understood the concern for her future where death would eventually swoon
a singer for blues, the used and her bruise
she looked her killer in the eye and asked a second time
yet her throat was slit before she sang her tune
the way she mouthed and passed as her spirit lost its groove
although the radio plays and her balcony fills with red
her passion will always linger and the creak you hear in the night is just the tune she always longed to play
just for you
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