On a chair in a room in a house in a town
Sits a man with a story to tell
On his brow he wears a serious frown
Since the ending is one he knows well

It began with a sigh and a lie and a fight
About something nobody can tell
He sits there in silence in flickering light
Though at heart he just wants to yell

The chapters are writ in what looks like ink
And now the words, they seem like a flood
In flickering light, just as you blink
Black is the color of blood