Listen. There's a sound in the next room,
And the curtain shakes at the open window,
And there's a noise of the mice in the wall,
Creeping over the wainscot and through the partition.
Will the sun never shine in here?
Will it never be warm again?
There's a heart that is breaking in the next room,
And it's my own heart, breaking and breaking.
The house is deserted,
Empty and silent,
And the mice run riot
Over the wainscot
And the furniture.
The cobwebs hang
In the corners,
And the dust lies
Thick on the floor.
The wind whistles
Through the broken windows,
And the rain drips
From the eaves.
The house is deserted,
And I am alone.
I'm going away from the house,
Away from the sound of the mice,
Away from the heart that is breaking.
I'm going away from the memories,
Away from the pain.
I'm going away to find a new home,
A new life,
A new beginning.
The house is deserted,
And I am alone.