The House That Dripped Blood

Look beyond the broken bottles

Past the rotting wooden stairs

Root out the wine-dark honeyed center

Not everyone can live like millionaires

Look through the air-thin walls

Tear up the floorboards, strip the paint

Go over every inch of space

With the patience of a saint

Grab your hat

Get your coat

The cellar door

Is an open throat

Look past the kitchen cabinets

Go through the chest of drawers

Scrutinize the casements

Rip the varnish off the doors

Dig up the laughing photographs

They're here somewhere or other

Take what you can carry

But let me tell you, brother

Still waters go stagnant

Bodies bloat

And the cellar door

Is an open throat