You shake me up in this half-broken castle
The one where it all comes down to me

You question the indiscretions
Of an honest man
Whose ill-advised arrows
Were mere pearls in the oil

You will bring down the silence
And daggers will be drawn
On a sun rising cold in the winter
On all that you scorn

And the blood that you spill
Wont stain the formica
Laid down to defend
This old woodworm floor
Against the rigours of enlightened-interest
Against the breaking of day

You shake me up
Pat my tin-can head
Applaud my token gestures
As if applause made them valid
As if they were the prize

You Shake me up
Shake me up
As if in the darkest moments
Of a paranoid day
You were the Chamber of Commerce
The Minister of Disinformation
Or The Council of Whispers
And I the knock at your door
Never to be answered
By poised pencils whose purpose
Was merely to keep score

March 2012

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