The Dead Girl - Matthew Ryan

The dead girl mopes through a dead scene

With a cross-stitched lip she’s picking at the seam

She’s got bravado she says she’s been

Featured in a few magazines

Now outside the bar Hank is straddling a police car

His fingers are purple and numb from circling a crow bar

Well twenty-four years have made it clear that things ain’t ever what they

appear

He says

I won’t be going easily

No I won’t be going lightly

And I won’t be going peacefully

No I won’t be going innocently

A sweet drink spiked with a speedball

A twenty-foot ladder and a ninety-foot wall

Dark shadows are gathering and swaggering down the hall

And I know

I won’t be going easily

No I won’t be going lightly

And I won’t be going peacefully

No I won’t be going innocently

I won’t be going easily

No I won’t be going lightly

And I won’t be going peacefully

No I won’t be going cleanly