• Sitting at the window,
    And wanting to get out,
    With fiery winds I doth blow,
    And listen without doubt.
    In a place of zero mourning,
    Here I choose to stay,
    With brilliant eyes unseeing,
    Wait for brightest day.
    Dark waters do they heave,
    Pushing towards the widows nest,
    Trapped without my leave,
    I am tortured like the rest.
    Waiting for my fate,
    Which I know will someday come,
    Sitting at the pearly gate,
    Like a true sadistic bum.