Happy tithings
Slither your sadness
And madness flies with you
Buzzes through your skull
Dull little headache-
Stop

The sheets are too soft
No one is screaming
walking
moving
Moths eat your town

The mad goat laughs
A wail and a stare
Little red eyes eat you alive

But it's all rather funny
Everyone in black
Weeping souls love
A laughing attack

Nothing makes me sing
And nothing makes me laugh
But the sight of you in April
Coming down the path

To my front door, he walks
And never will you know
How much I love that boy of mine
In Winter's gentle glow

Hate it
Love it
we cannot run from it
it creeps to your door in the night and knocks
a lizard slips under your crack

and crawls on your face
you are consumed
mr. yellow is through