No pretty way to say it

No pretty way to say these things, no pretty way to pose
I watched this happen right under my hands, under my nose
I watched it work its filthy magic just as it always did
slowly and precisely, it packed the can and closed the lid
It was perfected, as any evil thing would be
I watched it reach into its pocket hiding the key
No pretty words could be spoken from such putrid lips
Quietly that pretty thing, from reality, it slips
I guess in time, in gardens, pretty things may grow again
And maybe on the wind, a pretty breeze may blow away my sin

And finally there may an enlightening answer
to every form of chaos binding cancer.