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• Artiste: Lady Lamb the Beekeeper
• Titre: Mezzanine
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There's a ghost, ghost in the mezzanine and she's soaked, soaked in a glimmering Sort of bone Her bones and I'm blathering To count all her freckles, to touch her bare ankles The breath of the bread while it bakes. How I ache, I ache in the pit of me I awake, awake with this fear in me How it makes, makes a fool out of me with its knife how it carves the seeds out of my heart for to plant in the soil for to feast. You are sweet, sweet as a nectarine When you speak, speak softly and gracefully Oh to meet you could quite possibly be the death of my dread and the songs in my head would at last find their place and be sung.