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Watching the wind blowing rain on my window, shining like eyes looking out onto the road |
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Light through the steam of my tea flickers like flames, I put on my raincoat and step into the day |
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Puddles on the pavements and streams in the gutters are washing the blossom away |
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I smiled like I didn't know my telephone number and all of my thoughts yesterday |
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Down in the churchyard: the yews hollowed and old, trees like umbrellas, their sound tickles my soul |
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Puddles by the gravestones are colouring the bluebells and washing the dying away |
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They smiled like they never knew a telephone number and all of my thoughts of today |
