You're Really Nowhere At All

You’re a dog without a bark,
You’re the night without its dark,
You’re really nowhere at all.
You’re a song without a tune,
An astronaut without a moon,
You’re really nowhere at all.
Where I am is this crowded café,
And I sit here all on my own,
Knowing every single damned ring tone
Is destined for some body else’s phone.
You’re a beach without a summer,
The Clash without Joe Strummer,
You’re really nowhere at all.
You’re a table without chairs,
A banister with no stairs,
You’re really nowhere at all.
Where I am is this crowded café,
And I sit here all on my own,
Knowing every stupid damned ring tone
Is destined for some body else’s phone.
It’s never gonna ring for me.
It’s never gonna ring for me.
It’s never gonna ring for me.