She was living in a blue house. I went up and rang the doorbell and I waited. No one answered. I was waiting at a blue house.      At a blue house I was waiting. I judged the scaffold. "Renovating." They were working on the blue house, I was waiting there.      At the foot of the yard was a mound and it was covered with ants, and there was grass in the walk just been cut and that nobody had swept out. I had hoped you'd be home with no call, so I had left it to chance. There was no dog to beware by the fence a-makin' sure that I kept out, so I stepped inside.      But when I rang at the door, I heard no footsteps crawl to me across the close foyer floor, though I stood still at the ready. But there was never an answer and soon I had decided you'd stepped out.