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She coughs blood into my handkerchief

And looks the other way

Theres a lot of things that I could say

To someone so pretty

Cool and sweet.

And everything unravels like a rotten bunch of string

I fall short of everything 

When I talk to my dying beauty queen.

Time travelling ghost girl, 

Heroin chic 1990s star

Who burned and soared and crashed and rose 

Right into my arms.

There's a lot of things that she could say

To somebody so messed up

Mistaken and never enough

I guess I'm her toy soldier boy

Marching off to distant war.

I'll die by the hands of anything for my

Dead-inside girl,

Zombie girl masterpiece.