The day is gone 
when the [bad word] to stay 
And all the silent whispers 
will be blown away 
And lying in the corner 
a pair of high heel shoes 
Hanging on the wall 
gold and silver for the blues 

One too many wasted sunsets 
One too many for the road 
And after dark the door is always open 
Hoping someone else will show 

Someone is waiting behind 
an unlocked door 
Grey circles overhead empties 
on the floor 
The cracks in the walls have 
grown too long 
The slow hand is dragging on 
afraid to meet the dawn 

One too many wasted sunsets 
One too many for the road 
And after dark the door is always open 
Hoping someone else will show