Dímelo/Strange Fruit.

Dímelo por que estas fuera de mi?
Loving, a person, a girl, with a heart of ice;
trying to feel skin just as skin
as the ill timed drugs finally kick in:

And I feel what I think,
what I see in minds eyes.
I feel stone.

I feel cold..
like ice, her eye's
held mine for a second
before taking swig
of her dwindling juice and gin.

Those eye's,
so much darker brown then mine,
she so in vain tried to turn green:
For jealousy of my heart bane
or the jaded hurt from her father
who never could learn to love
his.. "fag" or a daughter.

Who's little brother was just oh so to bright,
with his dimpled grins- and. Green. Eye's.

(Are you drunk yet, baby girl?)

So here's the girl
who hated herself to the brink
where even the blood in the sink
didn't bother her anymore.

Joke on us, joke on me,
she had other plans in mind you see.

Who cared if she chainsmoked
and turned her lungs black?
For inside her mind, she started
to muse over certian morbid plans;

Swing.. ing.
Like a apple, dangling from a tree.

And it was all blamed on me
for who could hate a dead girl?
Who could dare to blame her?
Without looking heartless
without going with the bandwagon adoration
we all get when suddenly deceased.

Strange fruit, angel,
growning from splintered wood
in a smoke stained garage--
Where the every wall held memories
of Dolly's and tangled sheets.

.. Where the bed, wasn't unknown,
and was quite broke it. Where
those stains, big, bold and red
weren't made at all by acident.
How many men did it take for
you to feel wanted? How many
hearts to it take for you to finally break,
when you "fell in love" with the one?

Strange fruit, angel,
I wish I could take the blame for you.
But the mourners have stopped to
open up eye's: I wish I could render
them blind, to save the reverance of your name.

But I can't.
And I'm sorry.