Lately I've looked at the moon Through the dim window-glass of this old cellar room And winter has come since we last talked Fog's rolling in on the river walk
And 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 And watch the clouds go drifting by
And 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 them sigh
And I bet you've been wondering just what I've become Now you know I'm still right here where the story once began And writing you name on this steamy window glass As the moon above the cellar is rising at last