The house sat empty fourteen years A wasted crystal chandelier The lungs still howled a breathless air And corporate dust of laughing lairs He checked them in, the straw and clay Of ninety years of day by day Was my street sane? An image of The spark that stirs within them Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh I was fourteen, they bought the home Just old enough to stay alone The biggest chair, the smoky skin I sat like so and threw it in The floors that creak, the pipes that pound And underneath, one other sound An angry hum; a low heart rate That made me fear the stairs of Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh The void that's crowded with their fears Spills out into the present years Her tears upon the child at night And we say swift the daylight time Each year I grow, each day I think Of when I felt the breath of wings Above my chair, around my neck It wanted to devour me Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, oh Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha, Agatha... Agatha! (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha...) Agatha! (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha...) Agatha! (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha...) Agatha! (Agatha, Agatha, Agatha...)