She welcomed me in with a grin and a hello,
You look like a sin but you’re such a nice fellow,
She spoke in a way that struck me as fallow,
The language I learned as I hung from the gallows.
I spent last night in a basement on the hill,
If the remedy doesn’t kill me, I know that I will,
I have these friends that must keep me alive,
And a poem that wonders, who sees through these eyes?