rich quatrone | my days are numbered


my days here are numbered
i don’t want my life to end yet, no
but my days here are numbered
here in this apartment
they are numbered
but i have nowhere to go
not yet
nowhere to go
living alone here is lousy
i’ll say that to you
very plainly
living alone here is lousy
tonight is saturday night
and i suppose i’ve learned
to be alone here on a saturday night
the urge to meet her in
the health food store is upon me
a few miles from this desk
she’s there shopping for the week
i’d follow her about the aisles
i did this for years
but i won’t bother her tonight
whatever she’s searching for
i will let her search
if she were to call me
or if a miracle were to happen
and she were to pull into my driveway
and come up the stairs
i’d be deleriously happy
but it won’t happen
my days are numbered here
i don’t know where else to go
i have no money
if i did maybe i’d feel differently
but i don’t
so its moot, isn’t it
it is better for me to stay
inside this apartment when i feel
so alone
than it is to go out and about
there’s nothing out there for me
not now
it’s gone
this place
this area
my ear won’t permit me to act
like a young fool any longer
i can’t go into a club and dance
and find a woman
that’s gone
instead there is this apartment
and music from charles valentin alkan
there is cleo the cat asleep on my bed
there is, what else, there is,
i don’t know what else there is
my days are numbered
that’s what i do know

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