Product of Society

I listen for your footsteps coming up the drive,
Listen for your footsteps, but they don’t arrive,
Waiting for your knock, dear on my old front door,
I don’t hear it,
Does it mean you don’t love me anymore?
I hear the clock a-ticking on the mantelshelf,
See the hands a-moving, but I’m by myself,
I wonder where you are tonight and why I’m by myself,
I don’t see you.
Does it mean you don’t love me anymore? ♫