What Never Comes

Winter nights fall early on breaking hearts
Women left behind know that ‘round these parts

One sits a twistin' bijou on white and lotioned hands
She has got old wooing love notes from a man

Everyone knows by now that she waits for what will never come

Monday morn is welcome
Work passes time
Men still glance when she goes walking at noon's chime

Sometimes when she is driving
    she will stop by the sea
and call out past foaming black, “Dear
    please come back to me.”

Everyone knows by now that she waits for what will never come

Winter nights fall early on breaking hearts
Women left behind know that ‘round these parts

Some loves are lost on bad journeys at fate's dark storming voice
But then love dies sometimes merely by a man's choice

Everyone knows by now that she waits for what will never come