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I must have left my house at eight because I always do |
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My train, I'm certain, left the station just when it was due |
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I must have read the morning paper going into town |
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And having gotten through the editorial, no doubt I must have frowned |
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I must have made my desk around a quarter after nine |
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With letters to be read and heaps of papers waiting to be signed |
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I must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or so |
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The usual place, the usual bunch |
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And still on top of this I'm pretty sure it must have rained |
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The day before you came |
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I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two |
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And at the time, I never even noticed I was blue |
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I must have kept on dragging through the business of the day |
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Without really knowing anything, I hid a part of me away |
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At five, I must have left; there's no exception to the rule |
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A matter of routine, I've done it ever since I finished school |
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The train back home again |
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Undoubtedly, I must have read the evening paper then |
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Oh, yes, I'm sure my life was well within its usual frame |
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The day before you came |
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I must have opened my front door at eight o'clock or so |
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And stopped along the way to buy some Chinese food to go |
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I'm sure I had my dinner watching something on TV |
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There's not, I think, a single episode of Dallas that I didn't see |
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I must have gone to bed around a quarter after ten |
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I need a lot of sleep, and so I like to be in bed by then |
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I must have read awhile |
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The latest one by Barbara Cartland or something in that style |
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It's funny, but I have no sense of living without aim |
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The day before you came |
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And turning out the lights |
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I must have yawned and cuddled up for yet another night |
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And rattling on the roof, I must have heard the sound of rain |
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The day before you came |
