The Day Before You Came
Must have left my house at eight, because I always doMy train, I'm certain, left the station just when it was dueI must have read the morning paper going into townAnd having gotten through the editorial, no doubt I must have frownedI must have made my desk around a quarter after nineWith letters to be read, and heaps of papers waiting to be signedI must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or soThe usual place, the usual bunchAnd still on top of this I'm pretty sure it must have rainedThe day before you came
I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past twoAnd at the time I never even noticed I was blueI must have kept on dragging through the business of the dayWithout really knowing anything, I hid a part of me awayAt five I must have left, there's no exception to the ruleA matter of routine, I've done it ever since I finished schoolThe train back home againUndoubtedly I must have read the evening paper thenOh yes, I'm sure my life was well within its usual frameThe day before you came
Must have opened my front door at eight o'clock or soAnd stopped along the way to buy some chinese food to goI'm sure I had my dinner watching something on TVThere's not, I think, a single episode of Dallas that I didn't seeI must have gone to bed around a quarter after tenI need a lot of sleep, and so I like to be in bed by then I must have read a whileThe latest one by Marilyn French or something in that styleIt's funny, but I had no sense of living without aimThe day before you came
And turning out the lightI must have yawned and cuddled up for yet another nightAnd rattling on the roof I must have heard the sound of rainThe day before you came