You’re Not Home

The click of the front door Your clothes left on the floor Bike wheels, still turning Where you left them on the back lawn Hear voices recede and your fingers slip from my hand White skies and silence A lifeless wind burns through the downland And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold And you're not home, home, home, home, home I sit and stare, I sit and stare Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home You're not home Not home And it's cold, cold, cold, cold, cold When you're not home, home, home, home, home I sit and stare, I sit and stare Into my phone, phone, phone, phone, phone I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home No, you're not home I love that silver-grey first morning light I see that fearless love in your blue eyes Think I can picture some new shape of life But now you're not home No, you're not home Not home No, you're not home Not home No, you're not home Not home No, you're not home