Nobody else here baby
No one here to blame
No one to point the finger
It’s just you and me and the rain
Nobody made you do it
No one put words in your mouth
Nobody here taking orders
When love took a train heading south
It’s the blind leading the blond
It’s the stuff, it’s the stuff of country songs
If God will send his angels
And if God will send a sign
And if God will send his angels
Would everything be alright?
God’s got his phone off the hook, babe
Would he even pick up if he could?
It’s been a while since we saw that child
Hanging ‘round this neighborhood
See his mother dealing in a doorway
See Father Christmas with a begging bowl