the morning is burning

Arriving finally at the door, without a key,
I had been there before though I was not sure I was welcome any longer
There were sixteen buttons to press for the door to open but all I could remember was one
I pressed a button, the door stayed shut flashing her tits at me
falling on the stone walk way crying, I decided I hated that slut, wooden and locked
When will you ever let me in? Why can’t I ever be free?
the beams kept burning, the moths kept committing suicide dusty tears dropping around me
The sweetest voice gathered me to the dreamland, where I usually go
when I have nowhere else to go