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William Robert Brush
There's a black rotary phone nestled in the shag by your bed
In the shadow of the velvet lampshade, it hasn't rung since '72
But still that doesn't stop you from reaching down and answering
There's no one on the line, no one on the line
Light a candle on the altar for good ole Pastor Jack
He's been good to the family
He buried your 3 husbands without a smile
But you swear you saw him winking at you
Over his prayer book last Sunday
You swear you saw him smiling at you
Light a candle for him
Hair at Marcel's on a Tuesday, scissors working delicately
When you say, "some woman should be so lucky,"
He let's slip a grin
'Cause in his head he's thinking that 'her' should be a 'him'
And in your head you're wishing you were young again