Doctor's Cabinet Cesare in his box Tall stools at awkward angles and the brow of a pale, sweated man Crooked sewn seams on the back of his gloves... Tip toes and hook nose Over the hump of a nanny bridge While white coats flap in wan-ness and the cloak of the arch villain Rides atop, stoopy shoulders His special field of study Fiddling his tones in a row, row... Row, row Alignments missed in the faffing panic and tassel twitch of fearsome itching Not quelled, but nurtured as a poisoned hobby...

Young Stolen shards Shattered Break him He'll give you more Tainted gems They emerge from the fust And the filth and the rust Take more shape Only for his sake The sake of escape Better get what you own 'cos the young have grown And they're a dusty, ragged drone...

Silver A few miles away The light, the day Colour Me Darker A few days away There's a better way Sing Me To a better place See the silver mirror... ...see the waning moon