A Room Without A Clock

A ROOM WITHOUT A CLOCK (a reworking of an original instrumental cover of Dear Prudence , by Silvio Vinci) We took the stairs above the street, With summer rain upon our sleeves. You set your shoes beside the chair And left the city waiting there. The little radio lost its tune, Your shadow stretched across the room. You laughed before you found the light; I hadn't heard that laugh in years. In a room without a clock, Let the hours lose their way. Every word we never spoke Finds a little room to stay. Nothing asking us to run, Nothing waiting to be won. The ceiling wears a coat of gold, The tea goes dark, the street grows cold. You hum a tune I never knew; The walls begin to hum it too. A passing bus disturbs the glass, We watch its yellow windows pass. Your fingers tap against your knee; I find the beat and fall in quietly. In a room without a clock, Let the hours lose their way. Every word we never spoke Finds a little room to stay. Nothing asking us to run, Nothing waiting to be won. I spent so long arriving, I forgot how to remain. Now the kettle starts its singing And the room becomes a train. But we don't need a station, We don't need another town. All the things I couldn't carry, I can finally put down. In a room without a clock, Let the hours lose their way. Every word we never spoke Finds a little room to stay. Nothing asking us to run, Nothing waiting to be won. Your shoes are waiting by the chair. The morning finds us sitting there. You tap the rhythm on my sleeve; I let the last note breathe.