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
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 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
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 No, you're not home