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.