martha wainwright - door lyrics
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there’s a door
handle’s cold
made of iron & br-ss
and this door it used to lead
into what is now my past
if you were to have opened this door
it would have lead you on to a floor
where my mother had played almost 50 years before
nuts & bolts galore
croquet b-lls in drawers
badminton nets & racquets
all frank’s undergarments
walls get built where once there weren’t any there
locks get locked & door kn-bs fall off
wood-carved roads, chip-rock rues, so turn the screws
but the weasel of my heart
late at night unlocks the lock
walks thru the wall
sits down with my mother & plays a game of ball
nuts & bolts galore
croquet b-lls in drawers
badminton nets & racquets
all frank’s undergarments
there’s a door
handle’s cold
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