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Lately I've looked at the moon |
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Through the dim window-glass |
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of this old cellar room |
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And winter has come since we last talked |
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Fog's rolling in on the river walk |
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And the noise from the motorway stays |
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the night through |
[00:45.70] |
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When the working day's over |
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there's not a lot that I can do |
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So I write you these poems & make silly rhymes |
[01:04.84] |
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And watch the clouds go drifting by |
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And when twilight comes I sometimes go for a walk |
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The wind is in the branches & the frost is in the bark |
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Of the Winter Street trees |
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as they reach for a pale sky |
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You can almost hear them sigh |
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And I bet you've been wondering |
[02:15.40] |
just what I've become |
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Now you know I'm still right here |
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where the story once began |
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And writing you name on this steamy window glass |
[02:36.81] |
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[02:38.61] |
As the moon above the cellar is rising at last |