Midnight Getaway

I heard you 'round about midnight,
slipping out of the bed.
You thought that I was fast asleep.
Heard your slippers in the midnight hallway,
and I heard you rustling around,
trying not to make a sound.
Heard the tap of your high heels,
and the click of the lock on the door.
Baby, I hope you know what you're doing.
Heard you walking down the stairs,
and I counted them one by one,
one for each year that flew by.
Heard you stop and turn back once,
then I thought I heard you sigh.
Or maybe it was the breeze.
Heard the jingle of your keys,
and you stumbled and cursed the cat
that was sleeping on the stairs under the stars.
Heard you open the car door softly;
you must have been there half an hour,
turning it all around in your head.
Were you sitting there
waiting for me to come down and call your name?
I wonder--were you waiting for me?
Waiting for me?
Then I heard the motor turn over,
and I heard you driving away,
way before the break of day.
Heard your engine for a long, long time,
'cause the night was so cold and quiet
as you made your getaway in the night.