I could have stayed out and talked to you,
but I swooned for the comfort of my bed.  Oh,

I wish you and I could share words sometimes,
but you're drinking again or sleeping instead.  Now

there's a sound coming from the utility closet,
like God's blowing a giant hair dryer: a furious whir.  So

cold, so cold, we complain--and stay wet.  It's so,
so cold; I'm going to bed.