There's a lady in the graveyard, smoking in the rain.
Cellophane silk like a ribbon in her hair.
Nobody has died that she knew of.
She simply likes the rainfall when it's there.
I invited her into my former bedroom.
My old toys stared a hole into the calm.
It was there that the lady in the graveyard,
sat me down and showed me I was wrong.
She said,
“I know where I like. I know where I want to be.”
And there in the night, I am cold and concealed.
An epitaph arrives in the early morning light
to tell them I've resigned
with the lady in the graveyard in my mind.
Not soon after we had signed the letters,
to adhere my sunken state to her bones,
they found what's left of me dwindling down, down, down,
and I bellow,
“I know what I like. I know where I want to be.”
And there in the night, I am cold and concealed.
An epitaph arrives in the early morning light
to tell them I've resigned
with the lady in the graveyard in my mind.
Hold my head when the day is done.
She had to go somewhere I don't know.
And when she's gone I am alone.
And they will come for me.
Everything Katie Dill does is absolutely incredible. Her writing is phenomenal and her arrangements of folk tunes are some of the best I've heard. Haunting, experimental, and beautiful. Andrew Preston