Former Lee Warmer

In an upstairs room, under lock and key
It’s my brother, Former Lee
All the mops and brooms keep him company
Misconceived of the family
Former Lee Warmer pulls up the covers to hide in his wrinkled bed
No dreams go in, no dreams go out of the hole in his wrinkled head
Former Lee Warmer
When I hear him play in his twisted key
That’s the way he calls to me On a silver tray, I keep the master key
In every way, he depends on me Former Lee Warmer, an old smoking jacket — holes in his satin sleeves
Candle lit puddles, arthritic fingers, yellow stained ivory keys
In an upstairs room under lock and key
It’s my brother, Former Lee
And after all these years, I’ve never heard him speak
I wonder what he thinks of me Former Lee Warmer peeks out the window
When he feels really brave
Former Lee Warmer waves at his father
Out in the family grave
He’s flesh and blood to me
I love him brotherly
But, I don’t want to be Former Lee