The low moan of your voice on the phone
Comes through the floor from below
I'm listening in when you think you're alone
Alone
I press my ear to the grate
Who keeps you up so late
Well you won't hear me complain
Cause years turn my bones to dust
You change and I adjust
Adjust
I shift my weight to the side
Futile, my tears to your pride
We leave on the bathroom light
The Grate was written by RR.
The Grate was produced by Rose Cousins.