They lived next door to us and this woman had a baby in her stomach
She would escape through the window and return in the morning
The woman wore brown sandals and a polka dot blouse
She would go across the street and kiss a man and he would stoke her stomach and smile
I would listen at the stairwell
At their door
And that man would cry to her
Cry to her
The mother placed the boy into the stroller and never came back
That evening I heard in the elevator that someone's broken heart beats alone
I would listen at the stairwell
At their door
And that man would cry to her
Cry to her
Many weeks past and no one cried nor did they walk out
I found some old records which they had listened to privately
That man had tattoos on his skin and dreamed of his own son
He always left the door open and the light entering
I would listen at the stairwell
At their door
And that man would cry to her
Cry to her
I would listen at the stairwell
At their door
And that man would cry to her
Cry to her