Deirdre's in the garden,
  Walking down a garden path,
Near a red brick wall
  Under ivy and the cat.

The morning sun casts shadows
  Of trees across the lawn
All the birds and animals
  Have been at work since dawn.

"Hello, little spider."
  The spider looks at her.
The birds around her sing,
  And the cat begins to purr.

And then her brother's metal band
  Play the song they wrote
About the time they lit a fire
  For a talking goat.

Graham does his stage dive,
  Even though there is no stage.
And no one there to catch him.
  No crowd to feel his rage.

He lands in a metal arch.
  In the arch he stays.
He says his head is stuck
  For the second time in days.

A man who lives a mile away,
  Who cuts up trucks and cars,
Could really help her brother now
  By cutting through the bars.

So Deirdre gets the phone book,
  And looks for this man's number,
While at the arch a wasp
  Keeps her brother out of slumber.

She searches through the book
  For the number near his name.
She walks away, then looks again.
  The phone book's still the same.

She just can't find the number.
  She goes outside once more,
And walks along the limestone path
  Leading from the door.

She looks down at the spider.
  He looks back at her.
She begins to wonder what
  The phone book's really for.

She goes back the phone book,
  And flicks through every page.
She searches very slowly,
  Even though it takes an age.

But still she draws a blank.
  She goes outside instead,
Hoping that this summer day
  Will clear her cloudy head.

"Do you know where the number is?"
  She says to the spider,
Who's sitting on the dark green moss
  Near a tree beside her.

The spider turns around,
  And looks the other way.
Whatever it is he means by this,
  That's all he has to say.

She needs to help her brother.
  She doesn't quite know how.
The band have started kicking him.
  Graham is saying 'ow'.

She sighs and goes inside again,
  Returning to her search.
Two birds on a branch look down on her
  From their shady perch.

"She's looking in the wrong book,"
  One bird says to the other.
"Ye smell of hens. Ow!"
  So says Deirdre's brother.