Wasted
Wasted fortune, wasted pain,
one man's loss your devil's gain;
one man's gold thrown to the floor
makes a bride another's whore.
Greet your demon, pay your fine;
wait your turn down on the line
for the ghost who always knows
why your fear or worry grows.
Take the poison of your choice;
fill your chalice, and rejoice
in your morbid sacrament,
grace defiled, and beauty spent.
Wasted fortune, wasted pride;
one man's whore another's bride;
one man's girl so good and bright
gone to seed in solemn night.
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