How many times has he picked up the phone
To call her, when he's had too much to drink at night?
Whisky singing in his veins,
He dials her number once again
In the ghostly phone booth light
He hears her phone ring through the static
She picks it up and says, "hello"
And with shaking hands and pounding heart
He asks her again, "why do we have to be apart this way?"
He hears her silence, then she clears her throat
And while he finds the bottle hidden in his coat
She says, "you know we've been through this before."
The silence grows, moments pa**
His fear has clouded up the gla**
Inside the phone booth door
Tonight his words won't go the distance
He had so much he meant to say
They listen to each other breathe
Then she finally speaks and says
"I had to leave, you know it's best this way."
He's fighting for some words to say
Some perfect phrase to win her back
Or sway her to her side
Still the silence grows, it fills the phone
And it chills him to his very bones,
And leaves him with no pride
"Does it not matter that I love you?
Don't you love me anymore?"
She takes a breath and then says, "no,
I used to; that was long ago.
Don't call her anymore."
He bows his head, replaces the receiver
Trying hard not to believe there's no hope anymore
And he waits until his fears have pa**ed
His forehead pressed up against the gla**
And then he opens up the door
And the nightwind greets him like a lover;
Her cold fingers brush up against his cheek
Then she chases papers down the street
Past doorways, where lovers meet
And huddle in the night
Then he puts one hand up against the wall
And drains the whiskey
Trying not fall on his stupid face
And the wind it makes a mocking sound
Across the bottle's mouth
As he stumbles down to watch the river race
In his heart he knows she loves him
If he could only make her see
With his sleeve he wipes his streaming eyes;
Finds a quarter; he'll give it one more try
To make her see the light.