Waiting Still

I wait for
A late comeback
But it seems quite desperate

I wake
It is quiet
In these rented rooms
All filled with dust

I think
I'll die alone
I'll die alone

Shape up
Make things happen
Buy a drink
And write a book

Is it too late?
And does it matter?
When the light arrives
Who keeps the score?

I think
I'll die alone

I am waiting... still