Those voices I hear, they come from my head, ladies who never figured out which path their husbands took.
Over and over again I keep hearing them beg, to let go their hand/to take me with them.
I guess no one can help me now.
Just put me on the wall, inside that freaky frame, so one day someone will pay a fortune for me.
There’s no such letters in your book that would describe my swollen soul, I only hope that I can leave some sort of legacy behind...
Let’s start this auction, for fuck sakes, while there is still time and people in the room,
Make a golden frame, paint me on a horse battling with windmills on beautiful landscapes.
Count my last few minutes as someone’s at the door, waiting for my heartbeat to bid me farewell.
Then put me in the box, inside that safe of yours, so you can savour those last blood drops.
There’s no such colours in the world that would describe my bitter end, I only hope that I can leave some sort of legacy behind by giving you my last two cents and asking you to cherish them, like kids I never had from you, like love you never had for me.