She’s taken the day off.
I last saw her check out,
She wanted to go for a walk.
She looks a bit sad; she looks a bit off--
Wouldn’t you say?

Her skin was mottled grey,
Her eyes were downcast.
Her breath had no soul,
Her finger-skin shed fast.
You think she’s alright,

You think she’s had it bad,
Wouldn’t you say?
He lay, lay into her last night.
I saw those bruises on the crook of her spine!
You think she’s had it tough,

You think he made her cry,
Wouldn’t you say?
Meanwhile that house is no home, I guess.
The walls give off screams,
She can’t get even relax.

You think she’d get her own place,
You think she’d find somewhere else,
Wouldn’t you say?
All she does is work, work,
Maybe she needs some rest.

She’s been worried all week,
She hasn’t made any sense.
You think she got it figured out,
You think that’s why she left,
Wouldn’t you say?

I saw those girls in the next block,
I guess they gave her hell.
I guess they whispered around some,
I guess they weren’t treating her well.
You think that’s it?

You think she felt all sad instead
Wouldn’t you say?
I heard her all this morning
Saying she was boarding some train.
She said it was just the next station,

She said she couldn’t be late.
That must be where she’s gone!
Trying to catch a break,
Wouldn’t you say?
It is in the distant sound

Of the traveler’s hiss
And the tender bright light
Of a sign once missed.
And the roll of a thump
And cool red upon skin

Wouldn’t you say?
She says real life is a very fickle thing.
You pray for their words
Carrying no meaning.
You wish for their notice,

You wish for their grieving,
Wouldn’t you say?
She had taken the day off,
She had missed her train.
She had gotten her break,

She had made her escape.
She had it figured out at last
One might finally say--
Only not a soul
Asked about Anna that day.