Ottoman

Ottoman couch, how handsome your furniture
Lovelier now but dressed for a funeral

Begging you to sit for a portrait on the wall
To hang in the dark of some parliamentary hall

Elegant clothes you want to be seen with her
Under your tweeds you sweat like a teenager

Today’s for you
They laid it for you, for you
There’ll be six bells a-ringing and white women singing for you
But this feels so unnatural, Peter Gabriel, too

All of the costs
And all of the time it took
Soon it’s all lines of red in a leather book
Begging you to wait for a minute by the door
Your creeping feet where they’ve never been before