It was afternoon, I was sitting in this livingroom With wooden walls, the radio played a dusty tune The wall was covered in paintings, the most peculiar thing Was the table, on the top was a wedding ring I looked out of the window, snow fell down Giving the mountains a bright shining crown A smell of cinnamon filled the air I looked for a door, but there was none there Time seemed to stop, or was it just my breath? The fireplace had no chimney, was I choking to death? But how could I choke with a window and no fire? I heard a laughter from behind, so I turned to see the liar But there was still no one there, so I went back to the chair Held my head in my hand, fingers and hair And I began to sob a bit I had the feeling, there was someone amiss
livingroom, looked, amiss, window, peculiar