Bored to tears with my novel and this musicnI clean the sheets each week, the bed that nobody usesnnAnd I can't tell the others what I feelnThat I sometimes see the light, but Satan's realnI feel his burning ragennA small crack in the door turns to twelve inchesnA soft rub on the back becomes two pinchesnnAnd I can't tell the mothers what I've donenBut if God made me mother, he made my son to cry out in the darknHold out your arms, boy, you need mennThere's a tear in the free paper, crack in the (?)nA room with my new lover, the anteroom of hellnnAnd I can't tell my lover what I've seennThe continents drifted in my dreamsnAn emptiness abounds and water surrounds my last feelingnEmptiness abounds and water surrounds my last feeling