KorgStyle Life - Boots on the Porch Again

Then the kettle sings, and I start counting down again.
Count it down in blue, in box by box,
Every crossed-off square is closer to the front door.
When your boots hit the porch and the screen door knocks,
I'm spinning 'round the kitchen in my socks.
Last square is the one I circle twice.
The coffee's on, the radio's loud,
I'm finally standing tall.