On the first floor… On the first floor…
On the first floor there's a young girl reeling
Her body's numb and without feeling
As illusions dance on the midnight ceiling
Now she's falling, now she's kneeling
It's almost like she's bowed in prayer
A savior she's about to bear
She screams for help, but no one's there…
On the first floor…
On the first floor people walk the halls
But none can hear her desperate calls
There is no sound beyond the walls
So to the telephone she crawls
She telephones her only friend
The one on whom she can depend
But the phone rings on without an end
Then rings no more…On the first floor…
There's a party on the second floor
And through the picture window you can see them all
yourself
young
worked
wonders
thinks
hanging
savior
grown
loved
floor
friend
first
feeling
family
through
falling
desperate
beyond
blood
before
illusions
piled
place
count
midnight
kneeling
alone
walls
instead
around
dwells
without
admiring
secure
daughter
drinks
ceilings
bowed
buildings
someone
ceiling
inside
watch
sound
calls
should
jarred
child
platform
flights
feelings
about
dancing
depend
halls
crawls
leads
telephone
party
phone
laughing
bedroom
picks
almost
picture
window
prayer
failure
plaster
stories
coats
reeling
stayed
married
silent
years
ringing
rings
dance
saddened
where
screams
lives
second
people
bathroom
never
separate
still
renoir
suddenly
telephones
comes
master
there
wayward
doors
though
three
train
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