A fallen woman, falling further still
into the depths where fire and brimstone glow.
The Devil sadly sighs “you'll have to go
for Hell is full, too many men to grill”
So up she climbs that ancient starry hill
to Heaven's gate. A silent bleak plateau
of clouds and broken harps, the place has closed,
no saints to gossip with, no holy chill.
But then the moon to her begins to speak
“you'd better go back home, kid, go back home”
and then the moon begins to cry and shriek
“I'm all alone, my love, I'm all alone.”
She has nowhere to be and so she rests
beside the moon, his frightened banished guest.