The saddest house

in Stockholm

Remembers former glories

Of views without the railway tracks

And flats with many storeys

Its towers were a splendour

But now I just feel pity

To see the broken windows

And the walls full of graffiti

I long to sit alone inside

And recreate the past

Imagining an antique clock

That ran a little fast

And suddenly, it's all bare boards

And giant walls and ceiling

Witnessing this empty shell

That once was full of feeling

The rain beats on the rooftop

But the hearts alreadys topped

The fading yellow Stockholm paint

Around the bend bulldozers wait

The gnashing blades of blood

and hate

Anxious just to satiate

Condemning her to her cruel fate

Her ugliness to take his shape

A shadow cast from his dark cape

That dwarfs the curves and crashes 

her gate

Her doors will split, her stairs innate

Dust and rubble in the grate

She so young, but it's too late

The saddest house in Stockholm 

Settles on her rock

Remembers her friend

His fingers and hands

The ticking, though, has stopped.