She's paintin' her fingernails, waitin' for somethin' to happen,
Listenin' to love songs and watchin' the clock on the wall.
She could fix a cheese sandwich, but someone might ask her to dinner,
So she's paintin' her fingernails, waitin' for someone to call.
There's a torn yellow photograph stuck in the edge of the mirror
By the Raggedy Ann doll she played with when she was a child.
There's a top dresser drawer filled with jewelry and pills and old letters,
And she's paintin' her nails, dreamin' of Paul Newman's smile.
There's a sink full of dishes left over from three lonely breakfasts
And some old Glamour magazines all very neatly arranged.
But the magazines just make her feel that she's fat and she's ugly,
So she's paintin' her nails, waitin' for somethin' to change.
On her desk is a macramé she started back last December
And the bright gilded Christmas card he sent her three years ago.
So she stretches her legs in an exercise she's been neglectin',
Paintin' her nails, hopin' the gray doesn't show.
And it dawns on her the telephone just might be out of order.
She picks it up -- hears the tone and sets it down again.
Hell, there's lots of other men,
And if she has to, she can always call a friend.
In the fridge, there's what's left of last Wednesday night's candlelight dinner.
On her neck is the love mark he left to prove he was there.
And she should call the dentist and take her red coat to the cleaners,
But she's paintin' her fingernails, wonderin' if anyone cares.
She undresses seductively in front of -- Johnny Carson
And smiles goodnight to the bullfighter there on the wall,
And she crawls into bed knowin' that this time tomorrow,
She'll be paintin' her fingernails, waitin' for someone to call.