In the five mintues before dinner, my mind broke free.

[royalamusement]

Symphony on a Shroud

Popery and housecats
toil and leaves
the voices in my head are screaming
under these haunted eaves

no purpose to their words
these poets they do sing
and I’m left with nothing
just like a dead woman’s wedding ring

sing for me, my darling dear
sing for me into the night
for the monsters crawl into the shallow spaces
and they are here to fight

raise your voice from the dead
make it seep through the cracks in the walls
the spice of life is something sweet
like antifreeze or Niagara Falls

to raise up and plummet
ah yes the screams so dear
the dead woman’s voice is a singin’
and I am the only one who can hear

sha la la, shal la le
her voice pierces the hills of high Germany
autumns gentle kiss bloats the bodies
a lover of the dead and Persephone

the melody is hard to find
a trick in the land of treats
a scream in the bobbles
a poesy that is nice to eat

she giggles at the proposition
this mad screaming thing
and once again the wailing starts
adverse to the warmest hint of spring

the nymphs have their dryads waiting
the hamlets their homer to tell
but to a dead woman’s ring
there is no home but hell