Men are waiting patiently;
Remove me from the scene,
A sea of faceless souls in suits
A sight for eyes, like thumbs;
Sore crooked and bow and foul relief
You have, you have been exposed
Your eyes speak well of you
They play the requiem to
To a closed casket burial
Your conspiracy:
Conspiring to deliver me to the authorities
I've been betrayed so graciously
My bloodhounds hooked to a trail of ink which led me
To the words you scribbled down, obituary dedicated to me
Your fingers are star-crossed lovers that
Can't seem to get enough of each other
This pantomime dialect doesn't
Practice what you preach
I might as well be blind
With isolated eyes like mine