windows and walls

up every morning

long before day

cooking her breakfast alone

she quietly dresses

and pulls up the shades

and sits in the chair by the phone. but nobody ever comes by anymore

nobody ever calls

most days she sits and just stares

at the windows and walls

windows and walls. children all married

husband's passed on

nothing but time on her hands

most of her mornings

are spent in her dreams

or making her sad little plans. maybe she'll go to the corner today

and pick up the new mccalls

if just to escape for an hour

from her windows and walls

windows and walls. the clock on the mantel

chiming the hours

must be the loneliest sound

she washes her dishes

and waters her flowers

and afterwards has to sit down. sometimes she still can remember a child

playing with china dolls. now all that she's left

are these memories and windows and walls

windows and walls

windows and walls.