That Unwanted Animal

There's a second wind coming as we lie here in our bed
 It rattles the bones of our fathers, carries whispers from the dead
 And you, you, you light a candle
 And I make sure the bairns are fed
 You turn the telly on to drown out your fear
 You make the bed up silent on the floor, so no one will hear us
 You try so loud to love me
 I cannot seem to hear
 'Cause you, you touch, my skin peels off like paint
 But beneath all of our panting, there's this noise I cannot shake
 Well, can't you hear that scratching?
 There's something at the door
 But the wind has picked us up now, we're hanging in the air
 And as you grip me like an animal that you're about to spear
 "Be good to me," I whisper
 And you say, "What?" and I say, "Nothing, dear"
 Can't you hear it?
 It can hear you
 It wants me to
 (Throw the plate at the wall)
 ♪
 I'm the paper cut that kills you and the priest that you ignored
 I'm the touch you crave, I'm the plans that you made
 But fuck all your plans, I'm bored
 "And can't you hear that scratching?" I ask your eyes
 I've got knuckle burn from typing all these lines into your chest
 And as the belt from your buckle is tightening
 I make shipwrecks out of my dress
 And the door below, it splinters, and the creature creeps inside
 And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud
 Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out
 And I scream, "What's the time, Mr. Wolf?"
 But you, you're blind, you bleat, you bear your claws
 Oh, and you rip my ribcage open and devour what's truly yours
 And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the Lord
 'Cause if we join our hands in prayer enough
 To God, I imagine it all starts to sound like applause
 Can't you hear it?
 It can hear you
 It wants me to
 ♪
 And these plates, they smash like waves (place your hand in mine)
 And on the wind, it howls (how long can this last?)
 'Cause that second wind is coming, love, it's coming for all we own
 And on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out (let me out!)
 And you, you follow philosophies, but me, I laugh, I choke
 "Well, hello, my hollow Holofernes"
 I wink, but you don't get the joke
 "Hold the hand of the god-child," they said, "as he falls from the sky"
 "Be good to me," I beg of him
 "Be good to me," I beg of him
 Be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good
 And he replies (oh), "No, no, not I"