Burnt Umber

The yellow window's hanging on the bed across the wall Well, always in the morning the yellowest of all And the faces of the people in the window look so small And the faces in the morning were the peoplest of all Standing on the verandah of Millium August. I love to watch the spider in the horn of the Victrola And the window I have colored with a burnt umber crayola The chairs are musty horses with someone else's odor And somewhere in the cushion is a secret ring decoder Standing on the verandah of Millum August. While I'm turning cartwheels, the kaleidoscope is singing And somewhere in the distance someone else's phone is ringing There are rugs upon the ceiling, there are lamps upon the floor And renaissance wallpaper they put across the door The house has been torn down and everyone has gone And I am held a prisoner on a cemetary lawn Standing on the verandah of Millium August