Cuckoo Madame
with your teddy bear eye,
yellow fingers clinging to the chain link fence.
Bombers above you.
Bombers behind you.
Disapproval hounds you,
ugly rumour surrounds you.
Solitary madam,
we never understood, you
never told us of your battle
with the cuckoo baby blues.
Cuckoo Madame,
it’s no wonder you’re shy.
You’re Greta Garbo,
you’re the witch of Salem.
You’re anti-social, and
you are too bloody lonely
for the likes of us.
We never knew of your battle
with the cuckoo baby blues.
When you saw that egg crack
it froze your blood.
You knew you had to fly then,
had to say goodbye,
had to fly before you saw another mother
feed your chick.
You knew it would break your heart.
You knew it would break your heart.