It was early in the morning, 
we were sitting on the stoop, 
there wheeled away a starling 
and I thought that I would too. 
Oh for all I knew, 
I was lost through and through, 
in my high heels and my old dress 
with my new keys in the wrong city. 
I tie the knots to remember in my heart, 
so I choke and I sputter to a stop, 
I am a borrower and lender of the lot. 
I walk away asleep 
and chalk an outline round the scene. 
This shadow play of whiskey talk, 
a heavy denier dream. 
Oh let it be, I was lost in him and me. 
In my high heels and my old dress 
with my new keys in the wrong city. 
I tie the knots to remember in my heart, 
so I choke and I sputter to a stop, 
I am a borrower and lender of the lot.