Manners to endurenSculptures still sorenThinking of someone nAs the imagination it runs awaynGrateful I begin to playnnEuphoric in schemesnScattered through dreamsnProphetic she seemsnBut I know in the end you’ll come crawling backnOh how I have to laughnnProfound in her wakenCoked up on datesnThere’s she goes againnAs she’s scratching out the eyes of the ones in the suitsnBlack painted nails with stockings to suitnAnd she’s wiping up the threadnTalking on the deadnAnd she’s playing with their namenStartling the main (?)nScourging the framesnSo I went along with hernWhat else could I do?nWhat else could I do? nWhat else could I do? nnElections of ideasnTantalize my earsnAnd saaaaaynAnd they say.nnProfound in her wakenCoked up on datesnThere’s she goes againnWith stockings to suitnWhat else could I do?nWith stockings to suitnWhat else could I do?nAnd with stockings to suitnWhat else could I…