The Saddest House in Stockholm

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 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 heart already stopped
The fading yellow Stockholm paint

Around the bend bulldozers wait
The gnashing blades of blood and hate
They're anxious just to satiate
Condemning her to her cruel fate

Her beauty seemed to act as bait
Her ugliness to take his shape
A shadow cast from his dark cape
That dwarfs her curves and crashes her gate
Her doors will split, and her stairs innate
And 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