To build a charred and beguiled sense of fear 

To tell a different story 

I'll need to see a more generic height from ground 

This modern Jackanory 

Won't be revision of an older narrative 

Or plagiaristic fable 

But when you think that things will change while dark turns light 

There comes that shrill awakening sound 



Of falling down 

And while around 

Hanging up the checkout 

You wear me down 

You wear me out 

A brittle thought 

A lucky sound 

Turn me to God again 



I traversed automatic 'wishes granted' lines 

Received a common but remarkably expensive gift 

And to believe it is to see in this substance glitch, 

And though it's clearly fleeting 

The interim is gobbled up like after-thoughts 

Or morphine to the veins of the depandantees 

And though it's obvious this is a fleeting glimpse 

It's eaten up, so chronic 



Eat it, and it will leave! 

I'm out the sanctuary! 

There's not a sinner to save your movie 

Except in Canada, ooh-ooo-ooo 

Eat it, and it will leave! 

Become the secretary! 

There's not a sinner to save your movie 

Except in Canada, ooh-ooo-ooo 



And in Montreal... 

And in Washington, oh... 

Aesop would be proud! 



That his true favourite has conformed to stereotype 

And your iambic pentameter 

It goes in fours, nines, threes, twos, eights and twelve's 

Don't let that serving blacken the sound 



Of falling down 

And while around 

Hanging up the checkout 

You wear me down 

You wear me out 

A brittle thought 

A lucky sound 

Turn me to God againThanks to thudord@yahoo.com