Glass Creatures album

Bernadette (McDonnell)

Bernadette comes
In a shower of curls
Smiling and closed
She sharpens allure
Like a tool
Treasured and trusted
At Polaroid parties
Working the room
‘Til that’s all that she is

What Bernadette hates
Turner and Yeats and waiting
When Bernadette loves
Then she’s in your blood like morphine

So many tamed
Moths to the flame
Pinned to her specimen card
Each season she finds
The wanting become
More urgent than having

So gentle and pure
Her copy of human frailty
But like walking on ice
There is a price for trusting

She struggles with grace
Covers her face to hide
Contempt and impatience with time
Measured in lines
Stretching to bind her beauty

How soon ownership bores
Always to get what you wish for
Then Bernadette sighs
Studies her prize
And finds it…spoiled


Bobby Valentino - Violin
Dan Maitland - Acoustic Guitar
Tim Palmer - Acoustic Guitar
Andy Bratt - Drums
Phil McDonnell - Vocals, Piano, Keyboards, Bass