In stunned silence sitting
Wondering when the world will wake
The thin thread we've been spinning
Is surely bound to break
The reports on wire and electron
Give credence to the claim
That the precipice we're standing on
Is ever eroding away
In her left hand rests
A letter she never sent
While her fingertip traces
An open-mouthed bottle of gin
The television stares back blankly
For all her lovers have retreated
While the vicodin settles in
With the song she's been repeating
In stunned silence sitting
Wondering when the world will wake
This thin thread we've been spinning
Is surely bound to break.
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