Verse 1
Seven twelve, too early,
Turn over, close my eyes.
Seven twenty-six, that’s better,
Grey morning, grey skies.
Kettle on, same cup,
Same chair, same old view.
Rain against the window,
Nothing much that’s new.
Verse 2
Nine forty-three, that’s all?
Thought it must be more.
Nothing in the post today,
Nothing at the door.
Television talking,
Nothing much to say.
Turn it off, then on again,
Another bit of day.
Chorus
Waiting for the morning,
Waiting for the night.
Waiting for the hours
To slowly pass me by.
I don’t want them wasted,
I don’t want them gone.
Funny when you’re waiting,
How a day feels twice as long.
Verse 3
Ten seventeen, ten thirty-two,
Ten forty-nine again.
Time used to run before me,
Now it limps instead.
There were days I needed
More hours than I had.
People called and needed me.
I sometimes miss that.
Verse 4
Eleven six, too early.
Eleven fourteen, still.
Bread and cheese for lunchtime,
Another hour to kill.
Cup and plate together,
Wash them, put away.
One twenty in the afternoon.
Long way through the day.
Chorus
Waiting for the evening,
Waiting for the night.
Waiting for tomorrow
To make it all all right.
I know my days are numbered.
I know they’re running thin.
Still I spend each afternoon
Waiting for one to end.
Verse 5
Phone there on the table.
Pick it up again.
Nothing since this morning.
Put it down again.
Could go out somewhere.
Shoes beside the door.
Can’t think where I’d go now.
Sit back down once more.
Verse 6
Sunlight through the window,
Dust above my chair.
Little pieces turning,
Dancing in the air.
Watched them for a minute.
Beautiful somehow.
Then the sun went in again.
Nothing moving now.
Bridge
Whole years disappeared once.
Children grew and changed.
People came and people went.
Nothing stayed the same.
Now one empty afternoon
Refuses to move on.
So little time remaining.
Why’s today so long?
Final Chorus
Waiting for the evening,
Waiting for the night.
Waiting for a telephone,
A knock, a voice, a light.
Someone saying, “Get your coat,
We’re going out today.”
But nobody is coming.
And the clock ticks anyway.
Outro
Nine fifteen, too early.
Nine forty.
That’ll do.
Tomorrow—
Seven twelve.
Too early.
Waiting.
Lyrics Michael Forty
Voice Michael Forty