Every knock on the door tears me up a bit more as I lay here in silence on the twenty first floor.
It's never my door that's knocked on, it feels like they forgot about John, but it's not them that I care for, it's only her that I want to knock on my door, only her to be here on the twenty firstβ floor.
Do I always want more? you betcha I do, I want her to breeze in and tell me. John, I love you.
I check out the letter box every time that somebody knocks there's never anything there, so I lay here in silence waiting for her to come home.