My Moaning Lisa (Round Eleven)

I found the right spot, before the night fell, Then proceeded to take you down the hall To where you would be able to stand tall, With a private moment, as you are hailed. I was the hammer and I was the nail, Hanging my Moaning Lisa on the wall, With a firm grasp, so that you would not fall. So, against the wall, I hoisted you well. My Moaning Lisa came with her own hole, So, I just had to apply the right force, Knowing this hammering would take a tole. The wall upon which you were hung was coarse, And was strong enough to support your soul, As I returned your essence to the source.