A mattress on the floor
just aside the door
It's been locked from outside
These blankets once were white

There's a half filled cup
of coffee and Robert Johnson's
love's in vain
The cat doesn't recognize me
Only the radio knows my pain

The calendar says it must be
spring today
But right now it feels just like
autumn in May

Try to find my pants
victims of some wild romance
Wonder if she cares a lot
about those stockings she forgot

There's a painting on the wall
Shows the painter's sad eyed 
wife
Someone coughs his life away
in the hall and the radio
turns into a knife

The calendar says it must be
spring today
But right now it feels just like 
autumn in May