gala

gala hangs from the window frame

dressed in black and white

her face is colourless

in the moonlight

she turns around and her lips move

but the words just drop away

she leans on the back of a chair

and her arms begin to sway

she and i can hear voices

talking in the room next door

saying things we used to say

that we can't believe in any more

we've seen too many castles crumble

made too many innocent mistakes

who could have known that one house

could hold so much heartbreak?

and then the clockbell rings

the wind blows in -

gala makes for the door. her eyes blaze

and her hands are shaking

she opens her mouth and roars!

gala doesn't want

gala doesn't need

she claws at her face

with her nails till it bleeds

she runs down the stairs

in her poor bare-feet

she's too woman to cry or go down on her knees

then her mother is there

and her voice is soft

she pulls gala close

she soothes gala's cuts

and gently chides

and gala knows. that gala shouldn't worry

she needn't be afraid

because there are sailors on the sea tonight

in ships that god made

look! they cast out the line

with a heave two-three-four"