I would embrace myself, but arms are far and few
And though the brisk air of solitude is thick enough to be considered company
I still look out the wondow to see if anyone else is coming
Surely there is a reason for my solidarity, that crept up on me like an armed robber in the dead of night
When one is alone you find yourself is what I've been told
But all I've found was myself crying in the frame of this window for a face to greet and hand to hold