The old dirt road still winds by the hill
The house still has that country air
And memories live everywhere
But there's nobody home
The winter sun still warms the sky
And from the rooftop, sparrows fly
I know the mailman passes by
But there's nobody home
The swing hangs empty on the front porch now
But I can close my eyes and see
Momma sittin' there shelling butterbeans
Waiting for papa or waiting for me
I see the upstairs window pane
Where I would stand and watch the rain
Or listen to the evening train
But there's nobody home
The swing hangs empty on the front porch now
But I can close my eyes and I can see
Momma sittin' there shelling butterbeans
Waiting for papa or waiting for me
I see the upstairs window pane
Where I would stand, I'd watch the rain
Or listen to the evening train
But there's nobody home
Or listen to the evening train
But there's nobody home