It was in the two hundred and twenty first hour1
You pulled the cord and cut my power2
Now I’m in a twisted position3
As I’m uncovered by the city mortician4
My body’s cold and chilling white5
I died without the will to fight6
Look at me now, you made what you see7
Don’t you like what’s become of me?8
Author notes
I dont know what it is but I LOVE specific numbers in songs and poems, call me wierd
