Four Windows

There're four windows on the ceiling

In my hotel room

And i've got that limp old feeling

Of a heavily used broom.

I have stretched my nervous tension

Way beyond the muted phone,

Pining hard for your attention

Like a dog after a bone.

Wipe the floor with me, my dear,

It's what you do best,

Let me take your silent fear

As another test.

I count four windows on the ceiling

Just like yesterday,

And i've got that eerie feeling

There're still four of them today.

"so you'll be my nightmare now,

Chasing me around,

Writing me your e-mails,

Treading on my sacred ground?"

Oh, your questions are delicious

Just like poison on rye,

One more serving of suspicions

Then i'm all ready to die.

Oh, i'd be your nightmare, baby,

But i'm just too broke,

Spent all my euros on hotel rooms

And a diet coke.

I would chase your every footstep,

Write you in your gilded cage,

But obsession's over-rated

In this lovely day and age.

There're four windows on the ceiling,

Four times woman split in two,

Eight halves of your nightmare reeling

Between mirages of you.

Yeah, four windows on the ceiling,

Four blinds blocking out the sun,

Oh, i've got that schizo feeling

That i've lost four minds, not one.

I count four windows on the ceiling

Just like yesterday

And i've got that eerie feeling

There're still four of them today.