The Many-Fingered Monster

A many-fingered monster
lives inside my brain
He puts clouds around my stars
And manipulates my rain
My alarm clocks ring
In a deafening tone
And they join in with the bell
Of an unanswered phone
But my many-fingered monster
Does whatever he chooses
He doesn't answer phones
Or click on any snoozes

I have a piano
That plays tunes inside my head
While I'm working in the world
Or lying in my bed
And the one that plays the piano
Has a scent that lingers
His smile is sly
And he has many fingers
His hair is unwashed
And his shoes are untied
He knows where I run to
And he knows where I hide

He looks after my thoughts
When they try to escape
He replays them repeatedly
on his cassette tape
His face is awash
With a benign grin of pleasure
When my heart wants to stop
Or I'm under the weather
He shows me comfort
He carries me home
He says I may be lonely
But I am never alone

My many-fingered monster
Sees through my eyes
He spits poison at people
And uncovers their lies
We leave phones unanswered
My monster and I
We won't stop the music
Even when I try
I don't know where he came from
Which rolling seas, which sailing ships
But I think he's just convinced me
That my head is where he lives.