The The
Window Ledge
I live in a seashell freed from the world
Healing my pies upon the cooker I dwell

Calling, she was calling

It’s the latest sensation excluding the Pope
Finding dream coloured martyrs in dream flavoured soap

Calling, she was calling

Humming my lines with my boxes of Dreft
She’s framed in time upon the window ledge

Calling, she was calling

The sky was so bright one night I saw it
Shut my open doors until it’s unlit

Calling, she was calling

I’m not quite as happy as I could have been
With my whiter than whites engrossed in Him

Calling, she was calling

We fixed up our candlelight, whispering our tunes
Is love is the sweetest thing that’s happened to you?
I want to stay with you
Calling, calling, calling, calling, calling
Calling, calling, calling, calling, calling