THE RAVING

One cold evening dark and dreary, washing up, so tired and weary,
Watching my husband throwing up upon the kitchen floor,
As I felt my patience sapping, suddenly there came a tapping –
Then a louder, stronger rapping, rapping at my kitchen door.
‘Who the hell is this who comes here tapping at my kitchen door-
No sod comes here any more!’

‘Twas a bleak and dark November then a cold and hard December,
And I started to remember as he lay there on the floor.
The cause of all my sorrow was the cash I’d had to borrow
Which I must pay back tomorrow – It had gone. There was no more –
He’d drunk the lot and ruined us. We’d lose our home for sure –
There’d be no Christmas anymore.

I peeped beneath my curtain and saw two men I was certain
Quite certain I had seen the pair a’lurking here before;
Once again they started tapping, and then a harder rapping
My heart began flap-flapping as they shouted at my kitchen door –
‘Let us in! We know you’re there! Open up this door!
We want the money – nothing more!’

Into descending darkness peering, sudden movement I was fearing -
I stood there quaking, shaking like I’d never done before;
The silence was soon broken, for my drunken lord had spoken
Lying on the floor all soaking Saying ‘Get the bloody door!’
He lurched at me; I took a knife and he called out no more.
Just looked at me and nothing more.

Back into the kitchen turning, my head and face all burning,
Again there came the tapping but much louder than before.
Bang bang! My head was spinning and it seemed that they were winning
Those evil hated bailiffs banging on my kitchen door –
Those envoys of the devil shouting at my kitchen door –
I held the knife, and nothing more.

I set my face to smiling, tried to look my most beguiling,
Then slowly, calmly I walked over and opened up that door.
One spoke : he said quite plainly ‘We want the money mainly,
But if you still will not pay up now it’ll cost a whole lot more –
And every day we will come a’knocking at your door.
Every day a hundred more’.

I asked them in quite kindly as I held the knife behind me
And I told them they would find the money in the dresser drawer.
They turned; I put the light on – they saw a scene to frighten
Anyone who saw the gore upon the kitchen floor;
And the body of my old man lying on the kitchen floor;
They turned to run out of the door.

But there was to be no saving; for by now I was raving
And the breadknife I was waving as I leaned upon the door;
I jumped upon them screaming; they must have hoped they were just dreaming
The jagged blade was gleaming as I slashed and slashed some more:
The blood splashed and the bailiffs crashed onto the body on the floor;
I ran; and saw them never more.