Whispers of fated mischief
Carried in the night,
Wake up Wednesday’s child,
Turn on the bedside light.
Hear that heavy breathing
From behind the bolted door,
Skeletons in the cupboard,
Bones heaped against the inner walls
You used to laugh so freely,
You were attracted to the world,
Magnates, markets, miracles,
Suit boys and booted girls.
Where is that rebel trader?
That handsome gutter snipe?
Where is that cat and cad in
Silver, gold pinstripes?
I know they pawned your pleasure palace
Floating dream boat long ago,
They dialed up your number
And cancelled the zeroes.
Left with debts you can’t repay,
Threats you never will
Escape this vaulted prison or
Write a codicil.
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