Hopper's Bones
Hopper's Bones
It looks like that famous Hopper painting,
the one of the dead-of-night diner,
except the girl isn't here tonight.
She hasn't been by in a while, in fact.
It's just been me and the man behind the counter.
I'm a nighthawk these nights,
and I'm hungry for blood.
I want to feast on the innards
of an unsuspecting prey,
then cackle at the stares of horror.
Yeah, I'm a monster, you see,
I have no regrets.
It's fun,
and little girl, you're next.
You're having too much fun,
too much is going right,
and it's time for you to take a fall.
Honey, you're going to lose it all,
your life is going to crumble around you,
and we'll see how happy you are then.
When you've got nothing left,
when your body is nothing but bones,
babe, then you'll be a monster too.
You're going to feed on flesh
to fill your empty bones.
Oh, and the girl from the painting,
I know where she went.
She's in my basement,
and she's nothing but bones.
I told her everything she wanted to hear,
and took her to a place
where screams fall silent.
I tied her to a chair
until the meat sloughed from her bones.
And she's still there in her red dress
and her high-heeled shoes,
but she's smiling a toothy grin.
She won't make that mistake again.
"Sweetheart, you can do no wrong,
that is, until you talk to me."
I say this with the same toothy grin
that greets me at home each morning.
I go to church each day
to try to earn my way back nto heaven.
The priests say it won't work,
but what do they know.
I know that God loves me
even though I use the Devil's tricks.
Hopper didn't paint the skeletons in the diner,
but they're the only ones alive.
They're smoking brimstone cigarettes
and smiling lipless grins.
they were eaten alive,
taken in their prime,
lamenting their wasted lives,
and I am there for them,
dressed in black on black on bone.
It looks like that famous Hopper painting,
the one of the dead-of-night diner,
except the girl isn't here tonight.
She hasn't been by in a while, in fact.
It's just been me and the man behind the counter.
I'm a nighthawk these nights,
and I'm hungry for blood.
I want to feast on the innards
of an unsuspecting prey,
then cackle at the stares of horror.
Yeah, I'm a monster, you see,
I have no regrets.
It's fun,
and little girl, you're next.
You're having too much fun,
too much is going right,
and it's time for you to take a fall.
Honey, you're going to lose it all,
your life is going to crumble around you,
and we'll see how happy you are then.
When you've got nothing left,
when your body is nothing but bones,
babe, then you'll be a monster too.
You're going to feed on flesh
to fill your empty bones.
Oh, and the girl from the painting,
I know where she went.
She's in my basement,
and she's nothing but bones.
I told her everything she wanted to hear,
and took her to a place
where screams fall silent.
I tied her to a chair
until the meat sloughed from her bones.
And she's still there in her red dress
and her high-heeled shoes,
but she's smiling a toothy grin.
She won't make that mistake again.
"Sweetheart, you can do no wrong,
that is, until you talk to me."
I say this with the same toothy grin
that greets me at home each morning.
I go to church each day
to try to earn my way back nto heaven.
The priests say it won't work,
but what do they know.
I know that God loves me
even though I use the Devil's tricks.
Hopper didn't paint the skeletons in the diner,
but they're the only ones alive.
They're smoking brimstone cigarettes
and smiling lipless grins.
they were eaten alive,
taken in their prime,
lamenting their wasted lives,
and I am there for them,
dressed in black on black on bone.