An old lost book has re-appeared with the pages all dog-eared
That's how I know you've been here
The gardens gone to wrack and ruin
But I'll be up at the crack of noon
In time to seize the evening
They say that waking up is hard to do
It doesn't take a Sherlock Holmes to decipher all your poems
As abstract as you make them
Put painted hand prints on t-shirts, laugh until the stomach hurts
Days like these don't have pricetags
Talk of the love and the like she let him borrow her bike
With tyres gasping for air
Brought it back with wheel rim buckle,
Thinks to himself with any luck she'll
Decide to ride the bus to work come morning
They say that waking up is hard to do, but when she did
Breaking up has never been easier
Now there's a hint of that perfume on blankets in the lounge room
That's how I know you slept there