(Across town, Clive and William's mother, Sophie, sits staring out a window in an all but empty apartment)      You're locked up in your house   Your pictures packed in boxes   Your sons have both moved out and left you to fend for your own   And after all you've done with your body growing old      But tell me, tell me   Did you ever sing to them   Or did work have you so tired you would just send them to bed   How easily we forget      Your days spent in a chair   That window your obsession   You watch the frantic rush of life as it passes you by   Friends with city lights   Converse with neon signs      But tell, now tell me   Where you ever there for them   Or did grief and self pity take all that you had left   Oh lord, what a mess      And what of the father figure where has he been   She takes out that slip of paper she's read and reread   Decipher each word it said      Never really sure what the hell he meant   That son of a bitch she'd never see again      But don't blame it on the blues   Your sorrow gets the best of you   So dry your crying eyes   I'll give you the awful truth   You probably should have moved on with your life   Tell me, did you even try      Or perhaps I'm not looking at this right   True love's not that easy to come by