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Footsteps |
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So she walks into the room |
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Lays down on the couch |
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Goes and boils a pot of tea |
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Lift the lid |
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Drop the leaves |
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So don't listen for the door |
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To open |
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Here in the city there's no keeping track of cars |
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Outside it softly starts to rain |
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Greets her like the family cat |
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Holds her in the room like hands |
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Holding something made of glass |
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"Quiet down, my baby, rest and just |
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listen to me fall." |
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And she sits there for a long time |
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In the teeth of her mind |
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Oh, I need to be alone with me |
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Somewhere in the country |
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Where there's no chance of hoping |
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For footsteps |
