For Your Condsideration

 

A Macabre Tale by the wonderful Tom Waits for your edification and inspiration

 

 

 

What’s he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?
He has subscriptions to those magazines
He never waves when he goes by
He’s hiding something from the rest of us
He’s all to himself; I think I know why…
He took down the tire swing from the Peppertree
He has no children of his own, you see
He has no dog
And he has no friends and his lawn is dying
And what about all those packages he sends?
What’s he building in there?
With that hook light on the stairs
What’s he building in there?
I’ll tell you one thing: he’s not building a playhouse for the children
What’s he building in there?

Now what’s that sound from underneath the door?
He’s pounding nails into a hardwood floor
And I swear to God I heard someone moaning low
And I keep seeing the blue light of a T.V. show
He has a router and a table saw
And you won’t believe what Mr. Sticha saw
There’s poison underneath the sink, of course
But there’s also enough formaldehyde to choke a horse
What’s he building in there?
What the hell is he building in there?
I heard he has an ex-wife
In some place called Mayors Income, Tennessee
And he used to have a consulting business in Indonesia
But what’s he building in there?

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