Abandoned by all her admirers,
wild White Shadow Waltz
stands alone on a stair down the hall,
just one slip from a trip and a fall.
In a cold morning, holding her lighter,
wan White Shadow Waltz stirs, sputters,
and stalls. Then wakes, wavers
and walks right through her prison walls.
She says, "The doorbell is ringing.
Go see who it is.
Our little island's sinking into mist..."
--
A day came. A night went. It lightened.
An animal broke his way out,
moped through a scattering crowd,
and crawled back to his circus shell.
And circling the zoo's screaming clients
was White Shadow Waltz,
deaf to their torn breaths and calls.
(Wait, take a look closer... he's hardly moving at all.)
She says, "There's someone is knocking,
go see who it is.
Our little world is shaking...
I guess our little world is breaking..."
--
In the presence of all our despisers
we'll falter and crawl to the bed.
The world is a black shadow bled.
And what is this tune in my head?
She says:
"It's just the white wind when it whimpers."
"It's just the black rain when it squalls."
"It's just white meat whistling a waltz."
"It's just nine hands wiping a white shadow off of the walls."
