They say that...
Sometimes from the attic,
People clearly hear the toys,
Though the ears that hear them best,
Belong to younger girls and boys,
Jemima has a music box and Tommy has a train,
And they play with them together,
When the sound begins again.
The clinking of the cymbal,
And the ringing of the bell,
We love the gifts that Mother gives us,
But we crave for more as well.
Ascent!
Ascent!
Mother's left the house for bread,
Ascent!
Ascent!
"Never go up there" she said.
From the landing to the hallway,
To the ladder to the hatch,
Fingers feeling for the bolt,
To pull it back to free the catch.
Light goes rushing inward,
As the darkness tumbles down,
In the stultifying silence,
They can see them move around,
The tiny dark figures with the burning red eyes,
Drawing closer, ever closer...
All at once they hear the cries:
"Why don't you come and play with us,
Why don't you come and play?
We'd love it if you stayed with us,
Forever and a day."
Descent!
Descent!
As they fall into each other,
Descent!
Descent!
Sister clinging on to brother.
Stumbling to the front door,
Set to bolt into the the night,
But it's steady as a fortress,
Where their Mother locked it tight,
The portal of escape becomes their cradle of despair,
As they hear those clawed feet,
Skrit-a-scratching down the stair.
"Why don't you come and play with us,
Why don't you come and play?
We'd love it if you stayed with us,
Forever and a day."
Silence from the attic,
It's been mute now for a year,
Mother clings to Tommy's hand,
As she wipes away a tear,
In the grate in the parlour lie the ashes of a train,
Tommy stares up at the ceiling,
When the sound begins again.
The clinking of the cymbal,
And the ringing of the bell,
Tommy's blood chills when he hears it...
There's a music box as well.
Edited by bassMonkey on December 30 2022 14:34
Sometimes from the attic,
People clearly hear the toys,
Though the ears that hear them best,
Belong to younger girls and boys,
Jemima has a music box and Tommy has a train,
And they play with them together,
When the sound begins again.
The clinking of the cymbal,
And the ringing of the bell,
We love the gifts that Mother gives us,
But we crave for more as well.
Ascent!
Ascent!
Mother's left the house for bread,
Ascent!
Ascent!
"Never go up there" she said.
From the landing to the hallway,
To the ladder to the hatch,
Fingers feeling for the bolt,
To pull it back to free the catch.
Light goes rushing inward,
As the darkness tumbles down,
In the stultifying silence,
They can see them move around,
The tiny dark figures with the burning red eyes,
Drawing closer, ever closer...
All at once they hear the cries:
"Why don't you come and play with us,
Why don't you come and play?
We'd love it if you stayed with us,
Forever and a day."
Descent!
Descent!
As they fall into each other,
Descent!
Descent!
Sister clinging on to brother.
Stumbling to the front door,
Set to bolt into the the night,
But it's steady as a fortress,
Where their Mother locked it tight,
The portal of escape becomes their cradle of despair,
As they hear those clawed feet,
Skrit-a-scratching down the stair.
"Why don't you come and play with us,
Why don't you come and play?
We'd love it if you stayed with us,
Forever and a day."
Silence from the attic,
It's been mute now for a year,
Mother clings to Tommy's hand,
As she wipes away a tear,
In the grate in the parlour lie the ashes of a train,
Tommy stares up at the ceiling,
When the sound begins again.
The clinking of the cymbal,
And the ringing of the bell,
Tommy's blood chills when he hears it...
There's a music box as well.
Edited by bassMonkey on December 30 2022 14:34
