Two Storeys - The Lucksmiths

Downstairs it’s dark most of the time

And it’s a mess

The air is stale with the smell of wine

And cigarettes

She says she’ll clean it up sometime

But she forgets

She paints her nails and draws the blinds

I draw a deeper breath

And downstairs she says

«I swear I’ll cut off all my hair»

And every night’s the night before

Alter a while

A breakfast bowl on the bathroom floor

A broken tile

Red-eyed she stumbles through the door

She doesn’t smile

And neither do I

And this is where I live

But I know she’s on her own

This is not my home

Upstairs it’s a different story

Every day’s like Sunday morning

And the sun begins to shine

There’s a tree outside my window

Brilliant green and golden yellow

And that happiness is mine

I’m fine