Oh the walls, the walls
These barren, peeling, decaying walls
The walls have seen too much
They crumble under weight of tragedy
If only these walls could talk
These walls would tell a terrible story
This house now sits empty, alone
Still the walls remember
Oh the bottles, the bottles
Now they serve as home to pest
The bottles still remain
A souvenir of the past
Once held cure to sleepless night
To unfelt pain of the deluded
Held escape from a life so trite
The pills that led to life concluded
Oh the ashes, the ashes
Still strewn across the floor
A polite pile with butts in the corner
Roaches, resin and a few spare leaves
Still remain to tell the tale
Ashes from the fire in their soul
The torment that took this physical toll
And left the walls to tragedy
Oh the needles, the needles
Here and there around the house
The holes in their hearts
Nothing like the ones on their skin
The scars on their souls
Worse than marks on their flesh
And the poison in their brain
The same they forced through their veins
Oh the blood, the blood
The blood is the worst of all
How the walls scream of blood
The poor girl's terrible fall
