The pane of my window will flicker and glimmer
I'll sing of the bottles of wine that we left on our old windowsill
What melody will see him in my arms again?
Yesterday fever, tomorrow St. Peter
I'll sing of the walls of the well and the house at the top of the hill
You'll never get nothing of mine
Set fire the foundation and burn out the station
Oh, what melody will lead my lover from his bed?
I'll sing of the years you will spend getting sadder and older, oh love
I'll feed on my drum until then
I won't leave a stitchin' behind
What melody will see him in my arms again?
What melody will lead my lover from his bed?
