The Orchard

	My eyes are smaller than my stomach is.
	That is quite a meal for me.
	I have lost my appetite lately.
	The basement is where we wait
	For the storm to break.
	Someone is lost outside,
	Through the rain we hear them cry.
	Deafened by the sound
	Of the apples falling down.
	They were rotting on the ground
	When the winter came around.
	My bedroom feels just like a parking lot
	That's been closed up for the night
	Asleep beneath the buzzing light.