Music pulls tightly at my soul
follows me out as I stroll...

Blood red is the shadow round your eyes
as you look out on dying skies...

Thy stench dost wrench the ardour from my soul
and make my blood more cold than icy snow...

My mother in law is visiting
Tomorrow just at three...

The party's kicked off, with quite a bang
All my old friends, have come out to hang...

Stuck in isolation
for this virus thing is rife...

This rock crushes my dying breast
weighs heavier than you could know...

Phone me up and threaten me
and weave your evil threats...

Theres a penquin in my sandwich box
he's wearing bright green socks...

A twinkle in the dead of night
caused light through my bedroom drape...