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Badfinger

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Badfinger

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Фотография  Badfinger (photo  Badfinger)
   

MIDNIGHT CALLER

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Beneath the midnight caller

She thinks of paper green

You never hear them calling her name

They just know where they've been


You never hear her holler

The tears no longer come

She reads her daily book of the past

That shows of everyone


Grey years that show in her hair

Can't be, but don't seem to care

She unlocks the door and there's no one there


She sees a daytime stroller

Walk from the night before

And though she paints a smile on her face

He won't be back no more

She's got no saint to follow

She's got no place to go

Too proud to ask an old friend for help

Too proud to let him know


Grey years that show in her hair

Can't be, but don't seem to care

She knocks the door and there's no one there


Nobody (nobody), nobody (nobody), nobody's gonna help you now.




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