Whatcha gonna do when the walls burn down?
Whatcha gonna do when the black ash flies from your mouth?
My head had forgotten what my hand had done,
But I could not imagine such frightening fun as dying.

Try as we might, this is a waste of time.

Tongues of hell drip with a four beat count
Fizzing up the sedatives that flew into my mouth like locusts.
You could see the flames if they weren't so colorless.
You could feel the heat from my silk sharp dress as it flowed on and on and on.

If you weren't so precious, I'd have said "Off with your head"