She dreams china white behind her eyes of china blue

Her future wrapped in velvet and her memories wrapped in warm cotton wool



And the coffee grounds

are burying the hours that she killed

in another murder of a day



Her patience starts to crumble

like a rock that turns to sand

and time breaks down to seconds

when you're waiting on a man



She's checking out the doorway while she's checking out the guy

Whose drunk imagination is climbing up the ladder of her silk clad thigh



And the cigarettes

are burning up the hours that she killed

in another murder of a day



Her patience starts to crumble

like a rock that turns to sand

and time breaks down to seconds

when you're waiting on a man



It seems so long since yesterday

The time goes by so slow

When you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show



She shivers in a cold sweat that she's trying to ignore,

As she wraps her shaking fingers round the loose change by the phone,

She needs him more than she'll admit and more than others need to know,

She hopes the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,

The time goes by so slow

When you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show



She prays that no one pays attention

As she punches out the call,

As she fumbles with the number

That the panic still doesn't show,

She prays the lights stay green all night

and that the traffic doesn't slow,

And that the knots that tie her stomach are only butterflies,



Only butterflies, fly by every day

When you're waiting on a man, waiting on a man to show



There he stands behind the door,

She reaches for her coat to go,

And she wanders away in a dream

She wanders away in a dream



As she threads her way home through the neon washed alleyways

She flirts with the shadows and skirts round the victims

Of a night that'll sleep through the day

that cast out its refugees and throws out its debris,



She turns the key in a lock to a fairytale world

that she guards with her ghosts and her faithful familiars

who attend to her shrine in the patchwork cathedral

observing the ritual with silent compassion and prayers



On the candlelit edges of a tightening circle

She arranges the photographs faded and yellowing

Memories left of her friends and her family

Respectfully turned to the wall



She turns up the sound on a second hand radio

and drowns out the noise of the world that she lives in

Her conscience her witness her life is her courtroom

And the man she left waiting is waiting to murder a day