Текст песни The Room Above the Bookstore (Chris Stamey) с переводом

It’s a… cold morning

We’re sitting all alone

At a cafe in the corner

With espresso and a …

And you talk about last evening

In a sway ironic term

While the waiters clear the tables

And sparrows clean the…

We are hidden in the shadows

With the neon lights that glow

And I watch as your eyes flicker

And the taxies come and go!

My attention for the moment

Is distracted by the sound

Of the telegraphic chatter

Of the rain as it drips down.

As it sweeps a battered napkin

To the gutter, through the ground

Where it washes toward the river

As it travels through the town!

Like the sound of my own voice

As I struggle for the words

You’re asking if I recognize

The sound that we’ve just heard!

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Now the waiter carries over wear

And grits a refugee

Who is sat down at the table

That is next to you and me!

And an air of mystery

And we speculate that she is

Someone famous from the street!

You remember our appointment

You were searching through your bag

In the clutter and the ointment

And perfume from…

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

In the hotel round the corner

We have packed our memories

We packed in our souvenirs

And folded on our knees

You are certain you have something

Back there in the room

In the armoire by the mirror perhaps

But the taxi is coming soon!

That will take us to a randez-vous

With who will soon become

In the after-match of what we lost

And what we’ve not begun!

In the room above the bookstore

Where the curtains dance a bridge

Where we polished off our discontent

And shared so.

And I ask you what the time is

And you check your Mickey Mouse

But it’s broken like our hour glass

As sand have all run out!

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