Nothing Tonight

Intro (instrumental — solo fiddle over fingerpicked acoustic guitar) Verse 1 Forty feet of asphalt, one blue awning and one red Two doors that open up at seven, two lights that die at six We built it with four hands and a will four sentences long And I never learned the word for what I should have said Verse 2 You found it in the drawer on a Thursday, folded into three You read it twice and put it back and finished out the day By Friday you had keys to the empty place across the street And neither of us ever found a way to walk it back Pre-Chorus Anything Nothing tonight All right then Three sentences Chorus And every evening at five fifty-five the line goes through Forty-one years of nothing, forty-one years of you I never said I'm sorry and you never asked me to But I kept your number where I'd see it, and you kept mine there too Verse 3 There's a strip of tape gone dark beneath the counter where I stand Your number in my own hand in a heavy pencil line Dialling it would have been forgiving and I would not give you that So I only kept it where my hand would find it every time Bridge The sign came down on a Thursday And the brick went pale where it had been And I stood there with my arms across my chest The only way this town has ever seen me stand Final Chorus And at five fifty-five the telephone still knows the way Five hundred miles of quiet on an ordinary day I never said I'm sorry and you never asked me to But nobody hung up first, and I am on the line to stay Outro Anything Nothing tonight All right then All right then