Four in the morning, walking home A car pulls up, all the windows down Someone leans out, you hardly see A face in the dark calling on me Keep walking fast, look straight ahead Counting the number of streets still left Four in the morning, walking home Four in the morning, close to the dead Walk like a dead, nbo turning heads Wish I had left when I said I would The phone just died, nobody knows Only the sound of empty streets A humming car, a woman's high heels Four in the morning, walking home Come back to me Come back to me I'll give you a ride He said to me Four in the morning late to be walking alone I should have invited you home