I Deserve That, Don't I, Some Sort

I Am Sure There Are Things That Can't Be Cured By A Good Bath But I Can't Think Of One.

Tomorrow I Will Curse The Dawn, But There Will Be Other, Earlier Nights, And The Dawns Will Be No Longer Hell Laid Out In Alarms And Raw Bells And Sirens.

I Guess They Call It Suicide, But I'm To Full To Swallow My Pride I Can't Stand Losing You The Police Dying Is An Art, Like Everything Else. I Do It Exceptionally Well.

The Woman Is Perfected. Her Dead Body Wears The Smile Of Accomplishment.

I Get Into A Rut, Unable To Yank My Mind Out Of It.