Marika Hackman

Claude's Girl

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Turn off my mind, I beg you
It's buzzing like the devil's bow
Pulling a soft virgin string
A terrible shriek from below

A pure heart been bound by nickel
But not bent beneath the coil
If you play her right, she'll sing though the night
With the whispering wheat in the fields

The flies on my walls, they're silent
But the swarm in my head is a hell
So I'll try to play you correctly
For a top of your deep slumber pill

My fingers are wretched and calloused
Soon daybreak will creep up my stair
Now I've not got long to summon the song
Of the girl with the flaxen hair