Red House Painters Over My Head
some odd door some blooming tree senseless and awkward feeling hard uneased sleep in rooms where people leave dry of gentleness of life of breeze sometimes you get so alone without a friend it's hard to know who you are and to pretend little lights reaching over my head shiny sinks to let myself out in and you won't call to say it's all right 'cause you know it lasts all night you know you should be at home where it's good to be tired under a roof that you know that we're inside some odd door off-white painted sills faded pictures gathered round me still and i know what you face in the night and i know you'll be alright
