(Mary Chapin Carpenter)



Every night she sleeps alone

And by her bed she puts the phone

And every morning after that

She takes the phone and puts it back



He's got a wife back home and three kids up and grown

But these are things that go unsaid

He might call her from the road just in time to say hello

And goodbye again



She keeps his picture tucked away

She thinks she'll have it framed one day

And maybe he'll come see it there

Hanging by her rocking chair



In a corner of her room on a Sunday afternoon

When all the world is dull and gray

She might close her eyes and sit, rocking gently for a bit

Till all the bad thoughts go away



Back when children played their games

London Bridge and Jesse James

She captured flags, she bounced the ball

And every time, she beat them all



And now she comes home to a cat in a three-room walk-up flat

And plays a game of solitaire

Well she made a fist last night, and she broke the hallway light

And the pieces scattered everywhere



You see, he's got a wife back home and three kids up and grown

But these are things that go unsaid

He might call her from the road just in time to say hello

And goodbye again