There's a door
Handle's cold
Made of iron & brass
And this door it used to lead
Into what is now my past
If you were to have opened this door
It would have lead you on to a floor
Where my mother had played almost 50 years before
Nuts & bolts galore
Croquet balls in drawers
Badminton nets & racquets
All Frank's undergarments
Walls get built where once there weren't any there
Locks get locked & door knobs fall off
Wood-carved roads, chip-rock rues, so turn the screws
But the weasel of my heart
Late at night unlocks the lock
Walks thru the wall
Sits down with my mother & plays a game of ball
Nuts & bolts galore
Croquet balls in drawers
Badminton nets & racquets
All Frank's undergarments
There's a door
Handle's cold
Door Lyrics performed by Martha Wainwright are property and copyright of the authors, artists and labels. You should note that Door Lyrics performed by Martha Wainwright is only provided for educational purposes only and if you like the song you should buy the CD