House On The Hills
Unreleased WALKEN song.
She sat in an old wicker chair,
waiting on the front porch,
breathing in the fresh air.
Out by a house on the hills,
where mindsets collapse and
all the sound spills,
into the neat little rooms,
as mundane tasks corrupt and exhume.
A well dressed man stands put,
observing from behind,
watching her wait there.
“You don’t fit in here nor do you belong”,
He exclaimed in a static tone “You’re far too young!”
But a boy like me has accepted the terms,
So for me this is the house,
for which I have earned.
The detectives were in a downright mess,
caught up an idea that was oh so defective.
I felt the shiver of a cold new guest,
well hung, of hesititive defectors.
She sat in an old wicker chair.
She sat in an old wicker chair.
(2014)
