It was afternoon, I was sitting in this living-room

With wooden walls, the radio played a dusty tune

The wall was covered in paintings, the most peculiar thing

Was the table, on the top was a wedding ring

I looked out of the window, snow fell down

Giving the mountains a bright shining crown

A smell of cinnamon filled the air

I looked for a door, but there was none there

Time seemed to stop, or was it just my breath?

The fireplace had no chimney, was I choking to death?

But how could I choke with a window and no fire?

I heard a laughter from behind, so I turned to see the liar

But there was still no one there, so I went back to the chair

Held my head in my hand, fingers and hair

And I began to sob a bit

I had the feeling, there was someone amiss