Nothing here to fear I'm just sitting around being foolish when there is work to be done Just a hang-up call and the quiet breathing of our Persian we call Cajun on a Wednesday
so we go from year to year with secrets we've been keeping Though you say you're not a Templar man
Seems as if we're circling for very different reasons But one day the Eagle has to land
Out past the fountain a left by the station I start the day in the usual way Then think -- well why not -- and stop for a coffee then begin to recall things that you say
No one's at the door You suggest a ghost perhaps a phantom I agree with this in part Something is with us I can't put my finger on -- is Thumbelina size 10 on a Wednesday --
so we go from year to year with secrets we've been keeping Though you say you're not a Templar man
you tell me to cheer up you suspect we're oddly even Even still the Eagle has to land
Out past the fountain a left by the station I start the day in the usual way Then think -- well why not -- and stop for a coffee then begin to recall things that you say
Pluck up the courage and snap It's gone again I start humming "When Doves Cry" Can someone help me I think that I'm Lost here Lost in a place called America
Compositor: M Ellen Amos (Tori Amos) ECAD: Obra #23924942