I wonder what you think about when you’re all alone
me?
What are the instincts?
I want to know the things you do
Only when there is nobody else in the room
and it is a hot afternoon
or a cool lonely night
What are your routines for the rain and other obscurities?
Do you watch the water serpentine or light a candle?
Tell your deepest thoughts
to pen on paper
or put a record on
let the music carry away the bad thoughts?
Is it movie night in your living room
on your stained market couch?
Maybe it’s not that romantic and I give you too much credit;
You don’t see the beautiful things that I do, I know.
You probably think to do something about your laundry chair
And never get around to making your house a home
