Quiet daylight filtered through the window fills the room where I lie still
Alone with nothing of my own except a dim regret

Noise begins to float up from the street below where cars and people start
To go about another day in which they know their way

No one with a place to go can possibly relate or know the ache
With which I lie awake and face another pointless dawn

The ceiling has not moved yet I attest but shadows have and so the world
Around me spins along its course not asking if that's best