Verse 1

Rain writes crooked lines across the glass

Wind leans hard against the old front door

You say the road is calling through the storm

I hear your keys turn once, then nothing more

Pre-Chorus

The kettle clicks, the hallway clock runs slow

Your coat is hanging where you left it to go

Chorus

And outside, rain and wind keep tearing through

I hold the room together thinking of you

The window shakes, the branches bow and bend

I wait until this weather has an end

Verse 2

A paper map is curled beside the phone

Your penciled route runs past the county line

The porch light catches every passing drop