I am starting to sense your location. You are somewhere in the attic. Looking something close to tragic. Knitting t-shirts and your mattress. I'm floating up the stairwell.
Do me this solid. If you would pretty lady. Please grab your martini. And meet me on the balcony. I've prepared a light show. You could fake a melody.
And I could never tell as a kid. What that window door went to. Only told to stay away. I almost had an accident at age 6. When I found the key in the attic.