I must have left my house at eight because I always do   My train, I'm certain, left the station just when it was due   I must have read the morning paper going into town   And having gotten through the editorial, no doubt I must have frowned      I must have made my desk around a quarter after nine   With letters to be read and heaps of papers waiting to be signed   I must have gone to lunch at half past twelve or so; the usual place, the usual bunch   And still, on top of this, I'm pretty sure it must have rained      The day before you came      I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two   And at the time I never even noticed I was blue   I must have kept on dragging through the business of the day   Without really knowing anything I hid a part of me away      At five, I must have left; there's no exception to the rule   A matter of routine; I've done it ever since I finished school   The train back home again; undoubtedly I must have read the evening paper then   Oh yes, I'm sure my life was well within its usual frame      The day before you came      I must have opened my front door at eight o'clock or so   And stopped along the way to buy some Chinese food to go   I'm sure I had my dinner watching something on TV   There's not, I think, a single episode of Dallas that I didn't see      I must have gone to bed around a quarter after ten   I need a lot of sleep, so I like to be in bed by then   I must have read a while; the latest one by Barbara Cartland, or something in that style   It's funny but I had no sense of living without aim      The day before you came      And turning out the lights, I must have yawned and cuddled up for yet another night   And rattling on the roof, I must have heard the sound of rain      The day before you came