The Other Shoe

Another face of the moon, inspired by the morning after a first date.

Oh, what a moonrise –
So many shades of black and white,
Reflecting in your eyes,
So close and yet so out of sight.
And your weight is on my shoulder,
But it seems a bit too soon.
Is it love makes you bolder,
Or the phases of the moon?

I’m waiting for the ball to drop.
I’m waiting for the world to stop.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall.
I’m waiting for the light to change.
I’m waiting for the midnight train.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall,
And that’s all.

Waking from slumber,
To the memory of a moonlit smile.
Dial up your number,
And I let it ring a little while.
I’m attempting not to worry,
But I’m only tempting fate.
Am I calling you too early?
Is it already too late?

And all day long, I’ve been listening
To voices from the past,
They’re cutting me no slack.
‘Cause I can’t think of a single thing,
‘Cept preparing for the worst,
By getting to it first.
But there’s moonlight in the window,
And it’s whispering romance.
I’m listening to the wind blow,
And it’s asking me to dance

I’m waiting for the dam to break.
I’m waiting for the earth to shake.
I’m waiting on the Seventh Son.
I’m counting, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
I’ll wait until the bill is due.
I’ll wait until the moon is blue.
I’m waiting on the other shoe to fall…
And that’s all.

Words and music © 1999 by Steve Brooks and Frog Records
(512) 440-7668
[email protected]
www.stevebrooks.net

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