Beau is dead.
I did my grieving. Some years of it, eyes gone all bloodshot blurry
But in my mind, He’s not quite gone.
Behind these eyes, Beau lives on, quietly.
His all-seeing eyes are home tonight, all blue and prideful.
I’ll meet Him somewhere in my thinning sleep,
quivering with unthinkable fear.
“I am always with you”
I can’t take this anymore get out of my head GET OUT OF MY HEAD
Beau is gone, Beau is dead… Beau is living in my head.
No! He’s dead and gone, buried oceans deep;
Where fathers falter, daughters sleep.
There’s a price to pay for being His Girl;
The little rose is food for Beau.
White face, black hair, wide eyes gone glazed
A broken head, a broken neck,
He fought until His dirty death.
Beau! Beau! Beau!
Where are you now?
But I know that answer, know it well.
Beau is burning deep in hell.
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