Missing

There was an address somewhere
around here that I remember
a long walk to a girls house

It was snowing
It was cold
I had been drinking beer
at a bar

I walked halfway
and called
from a payphone
It was late afternoon
and dark already

I was half frozen
when I knocked on her door
It had turned into a snowstorm
A January blizzard
It was a four or five mile walk
and I'd never been there before

She couldn't believe
that I had walked
all the way from downtown
to the suburbs
in a snowstorm

We hadn't seen each other
since late summer

Her dad was home, watching TV
he barely looked up when I came in
like it was an ordinary occurence
for a frozen man to show up
in the middle of a snowstorm

We went into her bedroom
I slowly warmed up
as she showed me some of her things
and played a tape on her stereo

It was a comfortable bedroom
and a nice little bed
we sat there and talked
but something was missing
just like in the summer

We were attracted to each other
but there was something not
quite all there about the feeling
we never discussed it
but we both knew it

After a couple of hours
I put my boots and coat and hat
back on and left

All I remember of the walk back
is the windblown steets
kicking through the
endless snowdrifts

How it seemed like I'd
never get home