Leif Vollebekk 1921
I'm tired of being reasonable
I'm tired of waiting for
Some sign of the old land
To wash up on the shore
In the city's afternoon
Behind the buildings a white moon
Watched us look for a room that night
But we could not find a room
The key to you ever since we met
Is you don't lock any doors
I'm climbing up those stony steps
My shoes on the wet wood floor
Now she's in the shower, I hear the pipes creaking
Groaning like the traffic outside
She comes down and sits next to me
My mouth was open wide
Your picture is a portrait
The portrait's never done
I don't know how it got here
But I know where it's from
