| I wandered in around midnight |
| Like I’ve done so many times |
| She was sittin' at the table |
| There were no tears in her eyes |
| It seemed so much unlike her |
| To be so much at ease |
| She took a sip of coffee |
| And softly said to me |
| «There's the mantle where |
| We keep our wedding picture |
| There’s the bedroom where |
| We make both love and war |
| And there’s the ring that keeps |
| On slipping off your finger |
| There’s no reason we should go on |
| Anymore and there’s the door» |
| So I’m back here on this bar stool, |
| My whole world gone to hel |
| Behind the bottles there’s a mirror |
| Where a fool can see himself |
| If I was the man I should be |
| And not the one I am |
| I would go back there this minute |
| And beg for one more chance |
| There’s the jukebox |
| Where I wasted all those quarters |
| Oh, there’s a lady trying to |
| Get me out on the floor |
| And there’s a chance the one I love |
| Would still forgive me |
| It’s a step that I just never took before |
| There’s the door |
| There’s the door… |