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