The rain keeps falling and I’ve resigned
There will be no sunshine this weekend
And what will become of the rooftop parties
Revised for our too-cramped apartments
Well, if I did not know my own mind I might say
I’d rather be over in Washington State
But then if it’s raining in both places
Maybe my mood is my permanent location, my dismay
Why your phone call
Calling late into the night
In the nick of time
Why my heart leap
At the sound of your voice
Why such a thrill to hear you say my name
What good does it do to worry my head
To lay on my pillow awaiting
A night of bad sleep and of diesel-fueled trucks
That stall by my window at two AM
And what good does it do to think-rearrange
One’s life of beloved independence
All for a whisper that waits on a line?
Why your phone call
Calling late into the night
In the nick of time
Why my heart leap
At the sound of your voice
Why such a thrill to hear you say my name
Darker and louder it gets, I plunge my head into my comforter
Into my bed – it’s my only escape
The fan oscillates to the point it distracts
From the heat, from the street, from me
All these bells and whistles going off
I can’t get a wink un-
Till your phone call
Calling late into the night
In the nick of time
Why my heart leap at the sound of your voice
Why such a thrill to hear you say my name
Why your phone call
Calling late into the night
In the nick of time
Why my heart leap
At the sound of your voice
Why such a thrill
Why such a thrill
Why such a thrill to hear you
Say my name
Copyright © 2008 Rachel Zylstra
From Before You Could Decide, 2008