The
grass has lost it�s sweet perfume
And
no more does the silent moon
Shine
as bright as it did then
When
our sweet love was in bloom.
Cat
is crying at the window.
She�s
waiting for you to come home,
But
you are gone from here now.
You
left to wander and to roam.
And
now we sit by the dying fire
Waiting
for your key in the lock
We
sit waiting here in the dark
By the lonely ticking of the clock.