The Encase Wrap

Rough polyester tugging hard skin
Wrapped round me oh so thin
With 46 bolsters and Jack on my side
Barely breathing but that's alright

I think there's a draft my window won't shut right
I can hear cars immigrating through the night
There's a hurricane through the silk
And my usual mug of half skimmed milk

Clothes scattered in a art like format
The random top acts as my makeshift doormat
And there in the middle lies my old bed
And there on Jack lies my sleepy head

Stolen blue to keep my safe
but while he's gone I'll elope instead
With toes tucked in to keep warm
And two rough cloths wrapped though torn

Long ago I'd be up til morning
Wide awake staring at lies worth mourning
Howling drums play into my ears
Go to sleep now my dear, my dear.