One... two... three... four... turn You can see the spot on her floor, Where her blue-green carpet is worn Wishing she could walk out the door Forget how bad her heart has been torn
One, two, three, four turn She has music blaring Supposed to keep her from losing her mind Supposed to keep her from caring If only her tormentor weren't so kind
One two three four* turn He's still unaware of his slight She's pacing, reciting Poe in her head He's unaware of her pain every night She's wishing her heart was dead
Onetwothreefour turn Her fingers twine through her hair Berating herself for thinking of him She hears a few strands tear But paces on, ignoring them
My typical day I spend at least an hour or two (sometimes more) pacing and listening to music. Lately it's been more.