It was early in the morning, we were sitting on the stoop, there wheeled away a starling and I thought that I would too. Oh for all I knew, I was lost through and through, in my high heels and my old dress with my new keys in the wrong city. I tie the knots to remember in my heart, so I choke and I sputter to a stop, I am a borrower and lender of the lot.
I walk away asleep and chalk an outline round the scene. This shadow play of whiskey talk, a heavy denier dream. Oh let it be, I was lost in him and me. In my high heels and my old dress with my new keys in the wrong city. I tie the knots to remember in my heart, so I choke and I sputter to a stop, I am a borrower and lender of the lot.