Voices

A twisted phantom
Down behind the boundary wall,
Come hither, calls that Morecambe Sea,
Soon my mind will know that wondrous
Wave that washes over me.
Sink, Child,
Swim, Child,
Your mother’s breast has poison milk, Child,
Should you jump and no one see,
Save me for those nuthouse wall, ma,
Not that awful Morecambe Sea.
And still she whispers, ooh she whispers,
In my mind I hear her call,
Free the rail of bloodless knuckles,
Perched upon that boundary wall.
I’m all alone, Sir,
Mother’s gone, Sir,
These waves have come to rescue me,
For pity’s sake,
Help me off this last ditch fringe, Sir,
Save me from that Morecambe Sea.