As you read the morning paper
she’s still sleeping like a child
the smell of coffee from the stove
it wakes her up, but you don’t know
naked feet run down the staircase
a tired smile to keep you warm
the smell of coffee from the stove
it woke her up, and now you know
tired feet run down the staircase
her naked smile, to keep you warm
and as you pour the second cup
you realise, you’re not alone
