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Cylinders were silhouetted up against the sky
„Sunset makes the Maybellines look lavender,” she sighed
„I guess she’s right,” I barely thought and then I turned and said
„Was it murder that had hurt her or something that I said?”

They said it was a woman’s weapon, small enough to hide
Inside a simple pocketbook or underneath a bride
„Could it be [?] she slipped into suicide?
I do not think our flawlessness was always bonafide”

„I guess she’s right”, I thought again and then I heard her say
„She was never on your side, but simply in the way
Let it go for it is over, I will take your hand
And we will watch our willows wave and wait for wonderland”

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