Open D and short. A first draft. I'll record the true version some time...

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You never come to visit
when I'm sitting in the kitchen,
I always to set the table
but I always eat alone.

I watch you from the window
gathering wood for fire,
it's cold there by the forest
but I've never seen you shiver

Don't you want to cry?
Don't you want some place to hide?
Don't you want to come inside?

You'll stay to make me happy,
I'll be downstairs with the turene
filled with soup, and all I'd want to do

is fill your bowl with the broth
warm inside the kitchen
There's a time to gather wood
and there's a time to let yourself
be with yourself

Don't you want to cry?
Don't you want some place to hide?
Don't you want to come inside?

Still you break your bitter bread
underneath the table
I always see you do it
how I long to taste it

Still you break your bitter bread
chewing with your mouth closed
and you leave the dishes sparkling, and me alone.