Knocking

Dear lady, I saw you,
Fumbled through your purse for a minute or two,
Set it down on the step, rifled through.
Don’t give up, I thought, they must be on you.
Didn’t leave home unless you locked up too,
But you took a step back, staggered too.
I thought, she must be cold, Lord what can i do?

Is she crying?
Is she weeping?
Is the seeker kept from seeing?
Will she knock or keep on pleading?

Go downstairs, just let her in.
Obvious, I thought, but I feel so thin.
Won’t get there anyway before she’s let in.
Half a cigarette to finish, did I even listen?
Oh lady, you look cold, but I keep on tripping.
Maybe I should go, my heart will not stop screaming.

Is she crying?
Is she weeping?
Is the seeker kept from seeing?
Will she knock or keep on pleading?

Oh forget this, I’ll go.
Can’t leave somebody in the cold.
Should take keys along, sure she knows,
But now she’s stuck outside, diagnose the groan.
But I waited too long though…
One flight of stairs left to go,
And she found her key, opened the door.
And I heard you weeping, like hearts that are torn,
So I turned and ran, couldn’t face this no more.

Is she crying?
Is she weeping?
Is the seeker kept from seeing?
Will she knock or keep on pleading?

I know now you live on my floor.
Couldn’t have known that before…
But if you’d waited ten seconds more,
Jesus would have opened that door…

If you’d waited ten seconds more,
Jesus would’ve opened that door…

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