Shake the facts from this mystery
Death makes an equal of all men
She couldn't be saved by a five figure check
Thus was the nature of her end
I heard a voice in the parlor room
I saw on the dust covered floor
'Reverse silhouette, white as alabaster
At first I thought it was a glove
Nothing else could ever be open
And she is never far
When I locked the door behind me
There she was
What no one told me before too late
Now all that's left to see is
What they call the dead hand