Walls Close In

(mhm...) Four walls and a heavy wooden door

Tracing patterns on the kitchen floor

The kettle's singing but the fire is cold

Watching the shadows as they take their hold

I hear the street calling out my name

(calling my name) But every exit looks exactly the same

Locked inside these wooden boundaries

Dust is settling on my memories (oh help me

out) Running circles in the quiet space

Trying to remember my own face

The mail is piling by the front hallway

Another season turning into grey

I touch the handle but the iron is frozen

Stuck in the quiet path that I have chosen

Four walls... (four walls)

Just the dust

and me