The More It Changes - The Legendary Pink Dots

Fifteen storeys high, the black curtains drawn, and

The sun is just a brat that spits and the goes away.

The

T.V. chatters, there’s a pile of letters scattered on The mat.

Reminders, bills--they smell of cats.

Three

Starving cats who chase each others' shadows.

They

Curl up on him overnight and scratch him, and bite

Him.

.. But he lost the will to fight, and he lost the

Will to move.

.. It’s been a month, will be another,

Until the busting down the door.

They’ll carry him

Away;

they’ll strip him clean.

They’ll lock him in a Padded box some fifteen storeys high

Where the sun is just a brat that spits then goes away.