Outside the Door

Well, staring straight up at the ceiling
Can seem mighty lonesome, sometimes
But when you’re lying there, with someone you know really cares
You’d almost call that feeling divine

When the light’s shining in through the curtain
And my shoes, are lying there, on the floor
With a soft, lady’s cheek on my shoulder
And the birds a singing, outside the door

Well I know, that this might just sound funny
But still, all the same, it is real
That I can’t always express what Im thinking
And I can’t always say just what I feel

When the light’s shining in, through the curtain
And my shoes are lying there on the floor
With a soft lady’s cheek on my shoulder
And the birds a singing, outside the door