Everything But The Girl

Horses In The Room

Everything But The Girl


And who is this man standing at my door? 
is he lying or is he true? 
is this how I see you? 
like a rolling pebble on the deepest ocean floor 
life has rubbed me smooth. 
but you cup me in your hands 
and you roll me in your pocket. 
how many men, unhappy, crammed inside their skin, 
wordless to explain, stand at someone's door? 
Am I too old for this? 
is there kindness in his face? 
a good man or a weak man? 
there are horses in the room pulling me through fences 
I throw the window open 
and the light hits the pavement. 
come in, come in, whoever you are. 
I will know you, if only from afar. 

Once I saw a dry dock 
and the rustling hulks of ships and trawlers 
with a wind that could cut steel 
it was so cold. 

And I don't have to think that hard 
and it all comes flooding back. 
there is so much that neither of us will ever know. 
come in, come in, whoever you are. 
I will know you, if only from afar.