There's a second wind coming as we lie here in our bed
It rattles the bones of our fathers, carries whispers from the dead
And you, you, you light a candle
And I make sure the bairns are fed
You turn the telly on to drown out your fear
You make the bed up silent on the floor, so no one will hear us
You try so loud to love me
I cannot seem to hear
'Cause you, you touch, my skin peels off like paint
But beneath all of our panting, there's this noise I cannot shake
Well, can't you hear that scratching?
There's something at the door
But the wind has picked us up now, we're hanging in the air
And as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear
"Be good to me," I whisper
And you say, "What?" and I say, "Nothing, dear"
Can't you hear it?
It can hear you
It wants me to
(Throw the plate at the wall)
♪
I'm the paper cut that kills you and the priest that you ignored
I'm the touch you crave, I'm the plans that you made
But fuck all your plans, I'm bored
"And can't you hear that scratching?" I ask your eyes
I've got knuckle burn from typing all these lines into your chest
And as the belt from your buckle is tightening
I make shipwrecks out of my dress
And the door below, it splinters, and the creature creeps inside
And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud
Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out
And I scream, "What's the time, Mr. Wolf?"
But you, you're blind, you bleat, you bear your claws
Oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours
And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the Lord
'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough
To God, I imagine it all starts to sound like applause
Can't you hear it?
It can hear you
It wants me to
♪
And these plates, they smash like waves (place your hand in mine)
And on the wind, it howls (how long can this last?)
'Cause that second wind is coming, love, it's coming for all we own
And on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out (let me out!)
And you, you follow philosophies, but me, I laugh, I choke
"Well, hello, my hollow Holofernes"
I wink, but you don't get the joke
"Hold the hand of the god-child," they said, "as he falls from the sky"
"Be good to me," I beg of him
"Be good to me," I beg of him
Be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good
And he replies (oh), "No, no, not I"