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The Blue Moon After Next
by
The Narcissist Cookbook
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When the days get shorter And the sky begins to pale When the winds are howling Down the high-walled cobbled lane I write my name In the sycamore leaves Sign it with a kiss I'm coming home soon The blue moon after next When the night is hollow And shadows crowd the lawn When the doors are bolted And the curtains are all drawn You hear my voice In the creaking floorboards And hold your troubled head I'm coming home soon The blue moon after next I am the thing That stands outside your bedroom door and whispers through the keyhole The hand that knocks The face you pretend you can't see outside the upstairs window If I am not welcome you can tell me I'll disappear like mist I'm coming home soon I'm coming home soon The blue moon after next
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