The Room Above the Bookstore Songtext

von Chris Stamey

It's a... cold morning
We're sitting all alone
At a cafe in the corner
With espresso and a ...
And you talk about last evening
In a sway ironic term
While the waiters clear the tables
And sparrows clean the...
We are hidden in the shadows
With the neon lights that glow
And I watch as your eyes flicker
And the taxies come and go!
My attention for the moment
Is distracted by the sound
Of the telegraphic chatter
Of the rain as it drips down.
As it sweeps a battered napkin
To the gutter, through the ground
Where it washes toward the river
As it travels through the town!
Like the sound of my own voice
As I struggle for the words
You're asking if I recognize
The sound that we've just heard!
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Now the waiter carries over wear
And grits a refugee
Who is sat down at the table
That is next to you and me!

And an air of mystery
And we speculate that she is
Someone famous from the street!
You remember our appointment
You were searching through your bag
In the clutter and the ointment
And perfume from...
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, oh, oh, oh
In the hotel round the corner
We have packed our memories
We packed in our souvenirs
And folded on our knees
You are certain you have something
Back there in the room
In the armoire by the mirror perhaps
But the taxi is coming soon!
That will take us to a randez-vous
With who will soon become
In the after-match of what we lost
And what we've not begun!
In the room above the bookstore
Where the curtains dance a bridge
Where we polished off our discontent
And shared so.
And I ask you what the time is
And you check your Mickey Mouse
But it's broken like our hour glass
As sand have all run out!