By David Roth
© 12th May, 2001
He sits all alone each night just staring at the wall
He’ll glance at the phone hoping somehow that she’ll call
He cries in his pillow, weeping softly in the night
He wonders how something went so wrong that was so right
He goes through the motions at his job 8 hours a day
He longs in the darkness for the love he drove away
He’s worn out the picture that he carries near his heart
He hurts from the things that made them drift so far apart
Chorus:
Why, why, did he have to make her cry?
Why, why, did she have to say goodbye?
She tried so hard to tell him while their love could still be saved
Now all he has is memories, of the life they might have made.
He watches the movies of the life that they had made
He flips through the picture albums almost every day
He re-reads her letters, leaving tear stains on her words
He knows she tried to tell him; how he wishes he had heard.
Chorus:
Why, why, did he have to make her cry?
Why, why, did she have to say goodbye?
She tried so hard to tell him while their love could still be saved
Now all he has is memories, of the life they might have made.
And he sits all alone each night just staring at he wall
He’ll glance at the phone hoping somehow that she’ll call
He cries in his pillow, weeping softly in the night
He wonders how something went so wrong that was so right
