My wife is dead, my child is grown
Then rings no more on the first floor
When I was young my blood ran wild
Now she's falling, now she's kneeling
She wonders how she'll ever find someone to take his place
So to the telephone she crawls
And not the one I loved instead
There is no sound beyond the walls
She never calls or comes around
But none can hear her desperate calls
My daughter leads a wayward life
Step off the platform and onto the train
A savior she's about to bear
Should walls and doors and plaster ceilings
And count all the stories that go on inside
On the first floor
A silent, saddened lady thinks of what it's like to die
But the telephone stops ringing just before she picks it up
She telephones her only friend
It's almost like she's bowed in prayer
Admiring the Renoir that's hanging on the wall
But the phone rings on without an end
They're laughing and they're dancing
Watch all the buildings that pass as you ride
I married one I had to wed
So I worked hard to be secure
And though she lives just one floor down
But in the master bedroom where the coats are piled high
Then suddenly she's jarred by the ringing of the phone
There's a party on the second floor
The one on whom she can depend
My family was very poor
On the first floor there's a young girl reeling
So she walks into the bathroom and drinks some water from a cup
Her body's numb and without feeling
As illusions dance on the midnight ceiling
And then ask yourself if it must be this way
She screams for help, but no one's there
Oh, why do you ring now, just when I want to be alone?
But we stayed married for the child
Look out your window and into the rain
And as she dwells on all the years she still has left to face
She's been a failure as a wife
And through the picture window you can see them all
Now three flights up, I'm all alone
On the first floor people walk the halls
