I'll Meet You in the Elevator
Just pretend you want to be mine...
Pretend that you care about
how much you mean to me.
I'll wait for you,
holding open the elevator doors,
holding out my heart.
I'm standing on the threshold
of the thirteenth floor,
watching the mirrors shatter,
and the ladders fall,
and the black cats
walk in front of me.
The bell keeps dinging,
the clock keeps chiming,
but still, I see no sign of you.
I left the napkin on your table
in the cafe yesterday;
"Meet me in the elevator
on the thirteenth floor,"
it read. And you smiled as I
walked towards the door.
I thought I understood what that
smile meant; I guess
I was wrong.
With shaking hands, I push
the button to close the doors,
and as I hear the hiss of the machinery
beginning to work, I see
your face across the hall,
opening the door to the stairway.
I cry out, trying to push
the emergency stop.
But there's no stopping life,
no stopping fate or love or
God.
When the doors open to the lobby,
I step out, pushing back the tears.
The man at the desk calls out to me,
holding me back.
"Miss, wait! I have a note for you," he says.
I take the envelope from him, slide my
fingers under the flap.
Inside is a napkin...
"Meet me in the elevator
on the thirteenth floor."