From the recording Under the Mattress


<p>They come a'knocking then pounding as we hesitate to answer. A sky of gray looks down.</p>
<p>Entering every room. Why is it we feel like criminals in our own home?</p>
<p>They look now, under the mattress, into the closet. We tell them there is no one.</p>
<p>They were our blood a long, long time ago, but faces of strangers now.</p>
<p>They leave while taking three of the young ones. Schoolmates, long gone.</p>
<p>If that saves them I'll not say. Wish only Dad were here and the old I.R.A. (let go, let go...)</p>