[Lyric] Rm. 516 (Plumes)

[Verse 1]
Dear Mrs. Gately, can I tell you, lately, I’ve felt so alone
Walls stand for separation, privacy, to make a home
Isolation, though, a bedfellow of private space to own
If this house were glass, despite admonishment, I’d throw a stone

[Verse 2]
It’s unclear how long I’ve been here, fear it’s more than you’d condone
Volunteering for a night shift spite a student’s daily drone
4 A.M.’s a bitter time to face how little one has grown
Longer I’m entranced return’s hard hit further fractures thе bone

[Chorus]
It’s a search but therе’s proof of treasure there
All the golden fingered voices linger as I sit and stare
At a sign made by the seasoned reading “shovel-ers beware”
For the finds are placed unevenly and access isn’t fair

[Verse 3]
Dear Mrs. Gately, if you knew how spoiled I am with a view
Cross the river, look upon the lights, the bright the dark accrues
Others out there, maybe other clients, writing songs for you
Quiet, waiting for their percolating absence to balloon
[Chorus]
It’s a search but there’s proof of treasure there
All the golden fingered voices linger as I sit and stare
At a sign made by the seasoned reading “shovel-ers beware”
For the finds are placed unevenly and access isn’t fair
I could hedge my bets and focus or continue digging down
Hoping all the mounds of progress won’t condemn me to the ground
Maybe for the thought of closeness: “It’s too late to turn around”
Or I can’t see above the dirt displaced and luck must soon be found