The Beldam Of The Bedlam

A young man astride a rocking horse. His petticoats bristling
His eyes closed with pleasure enjoying the euphony of his fork scraping his plate
Facing him sits a filthy oldie shaking his dentures like castanets
Whistling through his nostrils, giggling with tears in his eyes
The clattering of my teeth. Sometimes a coff, sometimes an achoo.

Heard a cry for help, but didn't pay attention
Thought it was only myself as usual the beldam of the bedlam
A toothless hag moving eyeball-beads in an abacus
They stare so, they stare so on her rope of pearls
A row of Lilliputian skulls on a string.

The oldie chants the alphabet in an order he has fixed himself
Once he strode down the aisle with a wedding gown on an arm's length
His bride-not-to-be (anymore) in the soil right outside
The youngster tells about how he once lay in a bathtub barely conscious in rusty-bloody-red water.

The bathtub tiptoed on lionpaws to the landing, tipped over and flung him down the stairs on a rusty-bloody-red runner
I'd like to tell them about a dragon with hiccups. Hiccuping fire in headwind, burning itself
But I'd better not...