The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Please don’t cry
the ghost and the storm outside
will not invade this sacred shire
nor infiltrate your mind
my life down I shall lie
if the bogey-man should try
to play tricks on your sacred mind
to tease, torment and tantalise
wavering shadows loom
a piano plays in an empty room
there’ll be blood on the cleaver tonight
when darkness lifts and the room is bright
I’ll still be by your side
for you are all that matters
and I’ll love you till the day I die
there never need to be longing in your eyes
as long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
ceiling shadows shimmy by
and when the wardrobe towers like a beast of prey
there’s a sadness in your beautiful eyes
you’re untouched, unsoiled, wonderous eyes
my life down I shall lie
should restless spirts try
to play tricks on you sacred mind
but whom I never gave a name
I just looked into his wonderous eyes
and said never never never again
all too soon I did return
just like a moth to a flame
so rattle my bones all over the stones
because I’m only a beggar-man whom nobody owns
see how words as old as sin
fit me like a glove I’m here and here I’ll stay
together we lie, together we pray
there never need be longing in your eyes
as long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine