Crooked house, your doors hang askew in their frames
Keeping nothing safe, leaking space unto space
Creaking cold
In static snow
My joints unfold to points unknown
Crooked house, your halls trace a forbidden shape
Seasons pass like days in your siren embrace
The floorboards bow
In creaking cold
As woolly figures come and go
Crooked house, your walls twist the night on itself
Til I can’t recall that I was someone else
In static snow
The TV drones
A thousand voices drown my own
We took great care
Laying the least part of you to rest
The rest I kept
To wrestle with for all the days I’m left
In our crooked house
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