It’s morning sits inside The little room and waits But he's not sure why A mosquito flies return and back Like it keeps it’s time There is silence but not for long Something’s about to come Oh, taste of marinade Flavor folds the signs And all there's left Sugar rush and lime Empty fridge And there's a stench Rising up above One crooked lamp Still postcards are tidy Across the light Handheld fan He’s staring Like hoping he can jump inside There is knocking but he continues humming Words inside and it's getting loud Neighbor's dog is barking fire hell But he will stay inside Now there are tubes around Shackled angel's chest Stop! He cries Unchain My No new end