Don't Close the Door

A rainy night at the very start of autumn.

Someone is tying his shoes at the front door, and she is watching his back. She leaves the umbrella where it is, on
purpose. She's a little too grown up to say "don't go," so she asks the rain outside the window instead. Just a little
longer. Keep falling.

That one line is the only thing sung in English. There are words you can't get out in your own language, and somehow
they slip out in another one. I think everyone has had a night like that. So I wrote the chorus with the simplest words
I could find, so that anyone, anywhere, could sing it.

The sound came from picturing a city night at the end of the '70s: a Rhodes electric piano, brass and strings, and a
disco beat taken a little slower than usual. I hope you'll turn the lights down and let it play with the sound of the
rain.

In the last chorus, the words stay the same and only the subject changes. What she does then, I'll leave for you to
hear.