Fresh family 1st lease Find yard full of broken bottle shards & whispers on the street "The boys blasted birds with BBs We often heard shouts & screams Wife was sweet Bare hands built those flower beds Her sunflowers grew above our heads Real pity what that Bluebeard did All he could see was red"
Neighbor ladies say She enchanted her garden Called on the Fay Keep an eye on the children Their hands in the soil Minds lost in play Feet free to dance in the day The man with the uncertain grin Wont stand a chance Bluebeard will have his way
He'll weave a web of malice With suspicions he'll worm in Blood fills the eyes Ready to begin How worth the wait To once more break the skin Bluebeard always wins He always gets his revenge
Sister Sage awakens every morning In the closet fetal Swears on the wish of a young silver soul "This spot is safe" Still Skeleton toes scraped lines in her skull Cracks to seep in Where he'll stay long as it takes Bluebeard always wins He always gets his revenge
Incubus slithers down my spine I splash my face & close my eyes Sends slugs up the shower curtain Turns the water to slime Sips on my shivers sharp incisors gleam in the edge of my sight The promise of paralysis momentarily satisfies Thirst for spirit stolen in slumber For certain every night He has patience to claim his prize Bluebeard always wins He always gets his revenge
I awaken to flashing Sparkling sprites in flight Shimmering wings flutter & flee To the tops of trees "Follow us" they beckon "Its the only place he cant reach" I grasp pull & pry To the highest branch where theyve tied their goodbyes "We'll miss you Don't forget us But youve gotten much to heavy Youve grown to old to fly" He cackles thru the leaves shakes the trunk Circles beneath He cant climb But he has time Bluebeard always wins He always gets his revenge
Now clutter corrupted These walls are condemned A vortex inverts eternal Bluebeard will never give in Broken Bottle shards Flower beds Bare bloody hands Boys Birds Blasted BBs Really Such a Pity Bluebeard has no sense of time He has no sense of sin He knows what hes due Can nearly taste his sweet revenge -Bone Head
For the road
And farewell, farewell
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