You stand smoking by the window
The night in warm and damp
The house is feeling its age
It creaks with your every movement
We speak but you do not look at me
As I am sitting in the shadows
Quietly counting the passing years
You stand smoking by the window
The night in warm and damp
The house is feeling its age
It creaks with your every movement
We speak but you do not look at me
As I am sitting in the shadows
Quietly counting the passing years