(Belew/King Crimson)
Still, by the window pane,
Pain, like the rain that's falling.

She waits in the air,
Matte Kudasai.
She sleeps in a chair

In her sad America.

When, when was the night so long,

Long, like the notes I'm sending.
She waits in the air,
Matte Kudasai.

She sleeps in a chair
In her sad America.