A life in Bette Davis’s eyes,

Where glancing looks have killed,
I stare into the sea for love unseen,
Daffodils and dandelion’s please,
His absence still comes for free,
Between my darling Eleanor and Me.

As silent as the canyon muse,
Every rumour bouncing off the walls,
I am always pining for the rain,
For a grander piano that never came,
While Penny sits down to play.

If might we have a wake today,
Even our Saint Mary will be sorry,
Toiling our poor hearts away,
Evie’s cruel bow still tied to fate,
The rain may come but come too late.

Bette blinks at me and then night falls,
Until I can break through my body’s curfew,
The Hollywood love I love to love,
That bang and the whimpering spark,
Left alone with the me you love in the dark.

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