When I have to dress for it

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Pet Bee

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I was lonely
My hands holding each other tight
You think it is never
Like that for me, but it is
A scorched flower rested on my forehead
A bottle of pills rattled as I walked
From one end of the dance floor to the other

You could tell I was sick
Nobody wanted to dance with me that night
But how long was the night
And every dance went on and on painfully
Yes, your happiness was like a good whipping
I laid down in a room full of coats
And hats and umbrellas and took it

Then i tore off my head
And stuffed pills in its mouth
I threw the head in a wastebasket
And walked down the hall
To the men's room
Even though I didn't have a head,
I was still a man
Maybe people screamed
And ran into each other
Trying to get away
I couldn't see or hear anything,
Blood ran down my shirt
Blood or spit or sweat

The dance was meaningless
The head, having taken its pills,
Was all well
The rest was riddled with disease
But stumbled on thoughtlessly
Doubtless you were in someone's arms
Maybe you haven't heard
About the headless man
Poking at the doors in the hall

He was dressed for love
I was dressed for love
It is the same as murder
When i have to dress for it

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