A girl passes by the window.
An empty bottle of what was scotch.
There's a darkness behind me
reaching for the one in front.
I wonder if her hair is still red.
Don't let them tell you not to regret
All of this will soon be forgotten.
There was a tune in my head.
Standing in the corner of a room
Watching her curled up in bed.
You can hear the whispers in the
hallway
As the kids sneak down to see the tree.
First you're here. And then you're not.
Watching her dreaming in the meadow
smelling the clover and the forget me
nots.
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