Quanalive.

Air is crisp, air is stale.
There's a letter I got in the mail...
Today.

It's from Quanalive.
My long love bereaved...
She's expecting me to leave....
Today.

But I like it here...
This bleak atmosphere...
It's much, much better.
With the air ducts on.

I love it here...
This dread atmosphere...
And this old plaided sweater,
With the bloodstains gone.