The Norman’s are a screen
A surface flat and clean
A projection of a dream
Encased in knobs and plasticine
Janie walks the dog
And mans the coffee pot
She smiles and waves
She paints her face
And tidies up the lawn

But somewhere in her distant stare
A battlefield is just slowly unwinding
Janie dear
Is your attic cold and haunted
Did you live the life you wanted
So late at night I hear your husband’s roar

He drinks every night
His liver looks like a schoolyard fight
A bulldog of a fully loaded man

King Charles Norman’s Castle
Stood cold and tall
No windows and no tassels
Across the crawl,
Here we go again

Please don’t lock the door
I will be home after a while
And King Charles Norman’s eyes are set on me
He stands by the gate
Where I suspect that he will wait
Yes King Charles Norman’s eyes are set on me

Charles is a name
A figure in a frame
He plucks the children from the street
And feeds them to his flame
His hair is slick and mean
And squeezed in Vaseline
His suit is pressed
He juts his chest
His walk is long and lean

A flag hung down from every porch of every house
As they were passing by me
And somewhere in the cellar of the Norman’s house
A life was passing by me

Buzzing gadfly in the kitchen
Bit the apple, scratched the itch and
Made it home for dinner and a drink
On the fringe of their existence
When they realized this was it well
Doesn’t getting older make you think

King Charles sat by the fire in his castle
The crackle and cries were like music and rain
A breath puts a test to a withering candle
The piper plays death in a flickering shame

In blinding smoke, their cries wrote a symphony
I’m home, his eyes spoke, so bright and free

Cut through your ribbon and meet me outside
We’ll crawl through the back door to find him

I close their eyes so they can’t see me