Her days have been many
But somehow short...

There’s dead men in the reservoir
In the water that we drink...

The air in here is strange
I’ll admit I am afraid...

The father still loves me
And he loves you too...

Your spectre keeps me sleepless
Smiling wide into the darkness...

O’er the garden wall
Too nimble to fall...

The king that’s bound upon the throne
Won’t be getting beauty sleep...

Tears of laughter in the dying light
The good all hanging from a great height...

Let’s talk about trauma
Where to begin...

Walking a Death Valley of colour
Searching for just the blues...

Far beyond the needs of succour
Out of the reach of suffering...

Inside I’m just bare boards
Music without chords...