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(mary chapin carpenter) |
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Every night she sleeps alone |
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And by her bed she puts the phone |
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And every morning after that |
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She takes the phone and puts it back |
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Now he's got a wife back home |
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And three kids up and grown |
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But these are things that go unsaid |
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He might call her from the road |
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Just in time to say hello and |
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Goodbye again |
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She keeps his picture tucked away |
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She think she might have it framed someday |
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And maybe he'll come see it there |
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Hanging by her rocking chair |
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In a corner of her room |
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On a sunday afternoon |
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When all the world is dull and grey |
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She might close her eyes and sit |
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Rocking gently for a bit |
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Till all the bad thoughts go away |
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Back when children played their games |
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London bridge and jesse james |
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She captured flags she bounced the ball |
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And every time she beat them all |
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Now she comes home to her cat |
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In a three room walk up flat |
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And plays a game of solitaire |
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Well she made a fist last night |
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And she broke the hallway light |
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And the pieces scattered everywhere |
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You see he's got a wife back home |
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And three kids up and grown |
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But these are things that go unsaid |
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He might call her from the road |
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Just in time to say hello |
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And goodbye again |
