Nothing in the Glovebox

I found a pair of sunglasses
And the map you never used
Seven little parking tickets
From the nights I'd wait for you
I kept saying I should clear it
Every time the latch got stuck

Nothing in the glovebox
Nothing left of you
Nothing in the glovebox
But a little room for new

Took your glasses to your sister
Let her tell you where they'd been
Didn't ask if you were happy
Didn't find a way to linger
Now the latch shuts like it ought to
And the silence isn't mean

Nothing in the glovebox
Nothing left of you
Nothing in the glovebox
But a little room for new

I was calling it forgetting
When I never cleaned it out
Now I'm keeping one old road map
With a different route marked down

Nothing in the glovebox
Nothing left of you
Nothing in the glovebox
But a little room for new

Nothing in the glovebox
I can hear it closing now