[Verse 1] You left your thimble by the well, A little moon of tarnished tin. I set it on the windowsill And watched the dust come wandering in. [Chorus] Something has learned the shape of you, It waits where the curtains meet. I turn the key; the hallway bends, And gives me back your empty seat. [Verse 2] The kitchen clock has lost its hands, The kettle cools without a sound. Your coat still holds the smell of rain, Though every roof is dry in town. [Chorus] Something has learned the shape of you, It waits where the curtains meet. I turn the key; the hallway bends, And gives me back your empty seat. [Bridge] If I call your name, the glass replies In a voice that almost knows. I keep the door on its old hinge, For the draft that comes and goes. [Outro] The thimble rolls beneath the bed. I leave it there. I leave it there.
