The Mice

And I'm listening for the pitter-patter of little feet Sadly, I've got an agenda I must complete I never invited you here So I'll ask you to leave Before things get ugly Oh, little white light I could have loved you Oh, little white light We could have been friends But here comes the snap And here comes the death Of what could have been Mistress Mouse, I asked you to tell them to leave Now I've blood on my hands, and I am ashamed Now I've blood on my hands, but maybe I've changed Just a little song of getting to know you I told you I would kill again I kind of lost the thread there at the end of that one It was a strange one I had a mouse song that I wrote in my quarantine year When I was making a recording every day That was when Mistress Mouse first came to me And I have a little stuffed mouse kind of at the top of the stairs That come up to this space that came from one of my daughters And the beagle likes to run up here and snatch the mouse And try and hide from me So she's seen some action It's been quiet lately But winter sets in, and you start hearing the little feets rustling around And you worry about the electronics An old school mouse trap works really well So I've caught a lot of mouse the last few months But I always try and honor them and bell out their little snapped short existence And throw them into the cornfield and hope that something uses their energy To continue its own life You can do things like that out here in the Almost Country