Kirsty McGee

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i hear them scratching in the middle of the night
i hear the voices in the walls
there's a bird trapped in the chimney
i hear him when the lights turn low

i run the water and it splutters in the bowl
irises and yellow flag and crimson daisies grow
beyond the wall there lies a dusty bed of stones
i see them when the lights turn low

i am the sole recipient of autumn's vivid dream
i see things where there are not things
i see things you've never seen
i see rats around the edges
of the crevices and holes
i am the final great believer
in the twisting of the human soul

i taste the water but i do not swallow down
angels and promises have run me out of town
there's a bird trapped in the chimney
i hear him when the lights turn low

i am the sole beneficiary of winter's broken scheme
there are stones around my ankles
they are tied to me with string
sixteen hives of killer wasps
and seventeen of bees
i hear them when the lights turn low


© 2008 kirsty mcgee / big oak songs