"Forty Miles From Nowhere" lyrics
(originally by Rodney Crowell)
It rained today, the clouds rolled up at dawn
All hell burst wide open and just like that was gone
Your little lap dog chased a fox tailed squirrel 'cross the main road through the wood
Some ninja on a dirt bike nearly ran him down for good
Right about now it gets quiet around here, what with nightfall in the wings
The floorboards creak and faucets leak, but it's the emptiness that sings
The wind grows chill and then lies still
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
November sky's a diamond-studded dome
A hundred billion points of light to guide my way back home
When the moon is hanging fat and full and all those jangly stars recede
A fold out couch on a midnight porch is where my footsteps lead
You always said I made my bed
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
Friends don't call like they used to
For reasons not unkind
If there's anything that we can do
Rings hollow down a telephone line
There's a cedar grove in back of the house maybe halfway down the hill
A place to go and just lay low when we have some time to fill
A few gravestones, a pre-Civil War fence and the random arrowhead
It's where the beehive swarmed three summers ago, "Too wet" the old men said
So it's me your, little lap dog and that old brindle cat trying to keep this place in line
And heading into town these days is the last thing on my mind
I weep for you, it's what I do
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
All hell burst wide open and just like that was gone
Your little lap dog chased a fox tailed squirrel 'cross the main road through the wood
Some ninja on a dirt bike nearly ran him down for good
Right about now it gets quiet around here, what with nightfall in the wings
The floorboards creak and faucets leak, but it's the emptiness that sings
The wind grows chill and then lies still
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
November sky's a diamond-studded dome
A hundred billion points of light to guide my way back home
When the moon is hanging fat and full and all those jangly stars recede
A fold out couch on a midnight porch is where my footsteps lead
You always said I made my bed
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
Friends don't call like they used to
For reasons not unkind
If there's anything that we can do
Rings hollow down a telephone line
There's a cedar grove in back of the house maybe halfway down the hill
A place to go and just lay low when we have some time to fill
A few gravestones, a pre-Civil War fence and the random arrowhead
It's where the beehive swarmed three summers ago, "Too wet" the old men said
So it's me your, little lap dog and that old brindle cat trying to keep this place in line
And heading into town these days is the last thing on my mind
I weep for you, it's what I do
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
Forty miles from nowhere
At the bottom of the world
Writer(s): Rodney Crowell
