Grace

I think I met you on the seventeenth floor

When I stood on Margot's window sill

Or maybe it was in the Crimean war

When I lost my middle finger

I really don't love you

It just looks that way

Radio lover meets serial killer

He says it's inevitable

She says call me Grace

I think I met you on the mental ward

You watched me juggle my life

Or maybe it was in some naphthalene story

Roman candles and wine

I think I met you on death row

Somewhere in Louisiana

Or maybe it was at Heathrow

You were flying to Cancun

I think I met you at Graceland National

I was the one torching the bike

Or maybe it was at the abattoir

I was the one with the knife