in the winter in a seaside boarding house

the killer swigs and wheels

round his room telling how he made that

weeping spinster kneel



yellow light seeps through a fly-glown lampshade

fading with the dawn

he yells and laughs, "they all wanted it -- it was easy so

how could it be wrong?"



five am and the seas are boiling

five am and the windows crack

five am and my hands are on you

big madness

big madness



when i phone you just to hear your voice, oh please

don't judge me so

it's just that i don't think i'll rise again till i've seen

how low i can go



next springtime when i'm gone for good and you struggle

to find the words

cruel enough through all these dying countenance

my stupid laughter will be heard



five am and the seas are boiling

five am and the windows crack

five am and my hands are on you

big madness

big madness

big madness