| 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 | |
| Gray 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 | |
| Gray 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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