Ten

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 again