Jan Gillies - Valerie Hill

Valerie Hill Jeremy Rogers

Chorus:
Now, make no noise my son. Give me your toys my son
‘Til you can learn to be like other boys my son
Now you must wait my son, Give me your plate my son
Don't look at me with eyes so full of hate my son


1. Life on the hill; It was to be a perfect life
It can be still. A perfect boy from a perfect wife
If you could calm, the evil voice inside your head
By the devil's palm; Don't make me wish that you were dead

(Chorus)

2. Guests will hear cries, and ask about an apparition
I'll tell these? Lies, to dispel each mad suspicion
One wooden door, hides you here up in the attic
Can't take no more, You make our life far too dramatic

(Chorus)

New Chorus:
You can't escape, my son, Don't scratch and scrape, my son
You must not be free to maul and rape, my son
I love you still, my son; I cannot kill my son
And so we live like this up on our hill, my son

We built for you this room above, of wood and chains and fear and love