Down in the yard there’s a spot on the ground
Where not even bindi-eyes will grow
That’s where the old dog will surely be found
When summer is high and the hot winds blow
It is said there is a doorway buried under there
And beneath it, stairs leading down
It doesn’t explain why people come and stare
But might explain the darkness that hangs over town
So I took to the dirt with the Lord in my heart
And with a mattock and shovel in my hands
I knew I couldn’t stop once I made a start
Nor could I hush those whispered demands
The compressed dirt was hard as cement
But the more I threw myself at it the more came loose
All the while as I dug the day came and went
Yet I couldn’t use nightfall as a cessation excuse
The mound I created grew higher and higher
And as I dug down I felt a strange disconnection
The rush of thoughts I had began to expire
While my body kept at its laborious intention
The hole was so deep I could barely throw out the dirt
Then all of sudden the mattock broke through
I hunkered down to look, wiped my face with my shirt
And as I watched, the hole grew and grew
A feeling fell over me like a cool linen sheet
And I shivered inside despite being parched dry
Then a voice filled with so much unearthly delight
Called out my name and I couldn’t help but cry
I frantically dug at the ever-enlarging hole
Using my hands to throw the soil far and wide
Then I felt something blast me through to my soul
The coward in me wanted to run and hide
I heard the old dog baying at the moon above
The sound was bedevilled and forlorn
As I slipped in the hole like a finger in a glove
I wondered if I’d ever see the dawn
I fell for what felt like the merest of seconds
And landed in something cold, wet and rank
It was then I was realised the voice I heard
Was my own echoing around an old septic tank
So let this serve as a lesson to you all
Don’t let your suspicions get the better of you
Cause if you keep digging, you just might fall
And end up in an age-old shit stew