When her sweet summer love had turned and gone
He put a bigtime Moses lonesome on
He got back the ring with the note she'd sent
When he tried to make it permanent
Love was one big storm moving down the line
She didn't dream anymore of their future time
No sound from the pillow by the window sill
Between her and the call of the whippoorwill
Traveling salesmen, merchant crews
The carnys and the truckers too
If you live your life with your baggage packed
It seems you leave more often than you come back
Maybe love for her shouldn't burn that bright
But shine with a lean, warm and steady light
Someone who listened and could talk with her
I've heard such perfect men occur
The work he loved took him far from home
Soon she tired of too much time alone
No sound from the pillow by the window sill
Between her and the call of the whippoorwill
Writer(s): John Gorka
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