The clock died at a quarter to Midnight frozen angels on my bedpost tripping over some senseless beggar a simple case of mistaken face my how nothing changes different men in the same positions. Time died at a quarter to Midnight the scent of a ghost fills the air the clock on the wall broke down to fall my bleeding head on the baseboard my how nothing changes different men in the same positions. Just this side of Motel's End at Suicide Ocean.