Late Calls Backroad

You only call when the clock strikes three

To count the exits where you want to be

On a back road with no place to turn

Just a dashboard fire waiting to burn

And the hotel Bible in the drawer stays wide

Leaving all the secrets buried deep inside (ooh-ooh)

Late night caller!

Counting every door!

Running on the shoulder!

Dance-floor fire on the floor! (ah-ha!)

Another headlight cutting through the dark

No safe shoulder left to leave a mark

But the page is open where you left your name Just a

late night players in a vintage game

Late night caller...

Counting every door...