Echoes Of Already Heard

ECHOES OF ALREADY HEARD
(by Silvio Vinci ) [A reworking of An Original Instrumental Track ]
The evening climbs the kitchen wall,
Your coat is hanging in the hall.
A spoon turns slowly on a plate;
I hear it stop a beat too late.
Outside, the branches scrape the pane,
Rehearsing something in the rain.
I almost call you from the stairs,
Then find your ribbon lying there.

Was it yesterday you closed the door?
Or have I dreamed this room before?

Echoes of already heard,
Half a tune without the words.
Round and round, the seasons turn;
Some things fade and some return.
Stay until the morning breaks—
Let me hear the sound it makes.

We used to leave the curtains drawn
And talk our way into the dawn.
You traced a river on my hand
And said it ran beneath the land.
Tonight I follow where it goes,
Through empty shops and picture shows.
In every window, passing through,
I see the life I nearly knew.

And every road that leads me here
Brings your leaving just as near.

Echoes of already heard,
Half a tune without the words.
Round and round, the seasons turn;
Some things fade and some return.
Stay until the morning breaks—
Let me hear the sound it makes.

If I could change one afternoon,
One careless word, one train too soon,
Would you be standing in this room?
Would all the same small flowers bloom?
I leave your ribbon on the stair.
I let the cold come through my hair.
For once, I let the telephone
Ring out until it leaves me alone.

Echoes of already heard,
Now I sing the missing words.
Round and round, the seasons turn;
I can leave and still return.
Open wide—the morning breaks.
Let me hear the sound it makes.