I may know part of the score
but certainly not the whole story,
I ask you to dictate the terms
and you give me Jackanory,
knees,
back,
bent,
beckoning,
has there ever been such a fine reckoning?
You sing a song of deceit
not of the sword,
you wear a look of defeat and discord
in accordance with the slack jawed
but would that I could tell you
of all that does transpire
of things held tight against the night
and things thrown on the fire.
