Bethlehem Watcher from Night Loops by Jack O' The Clock

Tom o' Bedlam, sleep in your vitrine
Nights are long here and the days are lean.
I'll be whistling in the stairwell,
you will never leave your cell.

Past the workhouse, lightly past the prison,
I'll be whistling when the sun has risen.
Tom, for better, Tom for worse,
There's a penny in my purse.

The moon came in between three and four,
rolled across the gritty floor,
bared its teeth like a carnivore
and gnawed the knob off old Tom's door.

Six of seven all the world forgets you,
Come the Sabbath, the public eye besets you.
Tom, for better, Tom for worse,
There's a penny in my purse

• Folk
• avant-folk
• avant-prog
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• progressive rock
• rock in opposition
• Brattleboro