She was living in a blue house. I went up and rang the 
doorbell and I waited. No one answered. I was waiting at 
a blue house. At a blue house I was waiting. I judged the 
scaffold. 'Renovating.' They were working on the blue 
house, I was waiting there. At the foot of the yard was a 
mound and it was covered with ants, and there was grass 
in the walk just been cut and that nobody had swept out. 
I had hoped you'd be home with no call, so I had left it 
to chance. There was no dog to beware by the fence a-
makin' sure that I kept out, so I stepped inside. But 
when I rang at the door, I heard no footsteps crawl to me 
across the close foyer floor, though I stood still at the 
ready. But there was never an answer and soon I had 
decided you'd stepped out.