The click of her knitting and the tick of the clock

The shock of an occasional sigh

There's just me and her sitting in a room filled with fog

A great storm is brewing nearby

She sits in her silence in the old rocking chair

We both feel we've something to prove

And it sure seems a long way from here to there

But who's going to make the first move.

She picks at her knitting like she's looking for fleas

And I re-read again the same line

Although we're both sitting we are down on our knees

Praying for things to be fine

I could reach out and touch her, I could tell her I care

She could smile but then what would that prove

And it sure seems a long way from here to there

But who's going to make the first move.

The click of her knitting is like gun-fire to me

We're a time-bomb with a two second fuse

It's only our silence that steadies the peace

Ands stops an explosion of views

And we're both sat here thinking we've been treated unfair

While we wait for the other to move

But it sure seems a long way from here to there

And who's going to make the first move.

Yes it sure seems a long way from here to there

And who's going to make the first move.