All I can think is Poe
And his eerie tolling bells
And my lack of sound at all
And the stain upon the rug

You set down your coffee
And paid no mind
To the fact I was losing mine
It was all quite dramatic

When they found me by the stairs
Crumpled on the floor
In my lovely party dress
(The one from Boston, Mass.)

The clock went on chiming
My breath too soft to feel
The blood was dried and brown
And was that my heart done beating?