I fell into Santa Muerte′s eyes,
Cadillac lips that shine but don't smile,
"Listen love, I don′t ever cry,
No regrets keep my eyes wide.
You just looked lonely tonight."
It was a well-‐rehearsed line,
And the world just turned under our feet.
Lord, I've never felt so old.
Under shelter hiding from the Northern rain.
On the barest wall you hung there, unafraid.
As you clean the paint from your tired eyes,
Love, in each line′s a tale.