Landscape Blue

My hair stands up, something picks at my brain,
The atmosphere touchy as empty lair;
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

I prick my thumb but I can feel no pain
I hear my voice but there’s nobody there
My hair stands up something picks at my brain.

Sensitive sky cries on the world mundane
Sketched a pallid figure, a glint in stare
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

My landscape blue I paint and raze again
And turning white I curse the lady there
My hair stands up something picks at my brain.

I see the landscape blush on bud and grain
One minute inched to gold what once were bare
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.

Blood rose, electricity in my vein
Ink spread on paper catapults in air
My hair stands up something picks at my brain
Death is a lovely lady in the rain.