13h10 to Cucurul

There's a footprint near the bottom of my narrow stairs/ There's a gathering of cotton on my dusty chair/ A note says that you're leaving cuz you've grown so tired of grieving/ for something that you swear isn't there/ Well, if that train comes back tomorrow, I won't be here/ The statues that we built will disappear/ as if our hands had never touched or our bodies never clutched/ I won't be here

There's a whisper at my window passing through/ There's a soothing breeze blowing, telling me what to do/ so I walk without a purpose and push that window down/ shutting out the sounds I thought I knew/ Well, if the summer heat is burning, I won't be here/ The memories of warmth will disappear/ as if our hands had never touched or our bodies never clutched/ I won't be here

What's your head still waiting for? Another man, another form? What's your head still waiting for? Another stand, another war?

There's a footprint near the bottom of my narrow stairs/ There's a gathering of cotton on my dusty chair/ A note says that you're gone, so I'll be moving on/ I won't be here/ 13h34

- afm