from room to room

one heart
with four chambers
the blood moves from room to room
it comes in at midnight and leaves at noon
but you don't have to be wealthy
to be healthy
one knife
with four twists
the pain stabs at the quiet soul
it penetrates and leaves a deep hole
but you don't have to seek wisdom
to realize
there comes a time when the size
of your hat
isn't really where it's at
and all the sacrifice
wasn't all that nice
there comes a time when the hands
of your clock
take a walk around the block
and all the secret care
doesn't get you anywhere
which means,
it seems,
that i fell flat on my face
and you decided i was a basket case
then things got messy
it didn't help when i got dressy
and sang on the public stage
you locked me in an anxiety cage
and juggled the key
is it any wonder i no longer wanted to be me
and you
still with good health
sat me on the kitchen shelf
but my bread wouldn't rise
my swollen eyes,
with a glass of whisky near my lips,
whispered your name between sips.