david gray
ghost on the highway
bird with metal wings
crowd all around me
just don't hear a thing
what am i doing wrong
what am i doing tell me
you don't telephone
you don't telephone me
stand in the doorway
there in yellow light
down in the doorway
bathed in morning light
saw you before me
thought maybe it might
under yellow light
you never spoke a word
but its over
i saw the way you turned your head
but its understood
she don't telephone
she don't telephone me
sitting here late at night
my heart is aching
heard it all before