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