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• Artiste: Lucksmiths
• Titre: The Winter Proper
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It was dark when you got home And only getting darker The garden overgrown It was further than you thought From the driveway to the door You fumbled for the porchlight And somehow you were sure That there was something wrong She's going, if not gone And nothing said would stop her Put something warmer on And await the winter proper There was no need for a note It couldn't have been clearer The absent dufflecoat The clothes across the bed They spelled it out instead But you still don't understand it All those books you never read — Maybe this is what went on She's going, if not gone And nothing said would stop her Put something warmer on And await the winter proper At night the helicopters move above us Searchlights over roofs Of lovers hiding from home truths The covers starting to come loose In our modern bedrooms With our ancient problems