THE CAT AND THE YARN

The priestly spirit will haunt the ancient palace
He’s drinking from his sacrificial sacrilegious chalice
The cardinals hear the ringing though they’re cold and calloused
Their plans are filled with malintent, their sword has pierced the lancer.
Apparitions do appear amongst the lost and weary
The bats soar past in unison with a wind quite eerie
Whistling through the willow’s branches obscuring every candour
Capturing us is a lake in stillness as a fog’s appearing.
So helpless floundering I’m caught up in a race
My life has been sauntering without you but I’ll carry on
So I’ll go wandering up to a fondling place
where caress tingles through a delicate lace.
See yonder wing will surely guide me from the cat and yarn.
A lonely grandma knits and darns
She left the mother hen and rooster in the barn
The vigilantes have quickly been disarmed
For grandma wants some peace and quiet
She broke her calm ascetic diet
As her broken spirit becomes internally defiant
The angels descend as she is dying
For heaven she’s applying.
So cry, cry lady the harpsichord is playing
the death march for all including Mendelssohn.
Cry, cry lady the big brass band is blowing
the death dirge for all excluding mother’s son.

So useless thinking that I have salvaged saving grace
The evil drinking vat has you captured but you’ll carry on.
The ship is sinking fast with all the human race
Clutching straws will help to hide me from the cat and yarn.
Then the grandpa sits alone and stares
He left the mother ewe and father ram upstairs.
The lost evangelists have found their leader spared.
Yes grandpa does want utter silence
To concede his mighty influence
The devil’s wrath is rising
There is simply no disguising
For hell’s fire he is applying.
So cry, cry lady the harpsichord is playing
the death march for all including Mendelssohn.
Cry, cry lady the big brass band is blowing
the death dirge for all excluding mother’s son.
Tapestries of days of yore hold a secret answer
The sacristy’s evacuated from Capricorn to Cancer
The bishops hear a choir singing but have condemned the dancer
Their lives are filled with discontent; their words are filled with malice.