Through the Eyes of a Mouse

wheres the cheese...

Through the Eyes of a Mouse

His music makes my ears bleed---

the seeds of doubt sprouts about

It fills my head with an ancient dread-

that the dead will rise from the fiddlers lies

and they’ll  feed and gnaw at my flesh and bone~

 

what’s a little mouse to do…

 

nowhere to run!

nowhere to hide!

nowhere to cry!

only to die

I dare not deny---

 

The spittle of the fiddlers tune…