One waitress
|
Outside of,
|
Phone booth, South Carolina
|
Sits, keeps killing time
|
Rolls her eyes
|
Roll of dimes
|
Speak of this sick surrounding sin
|
Tears me from limb to limb, within
|
I don? know how to let it go
|
This far away from home
|
|
One word was mistaken
|
Context that it was taken from
|
Write it down
|
Must be sound
|
Must be true
|
I hope you can hear me
|
My only sanctuary asks
|
Why am I here?
|
Why aren? I home?
|
As the line builds for the phone
|
|
I want it all
|
Work to a fault
|
That breaks us in two
|
And always at play
|
The end of the day
|
I? alone and so are you
|
|
Old stories
|
Gas stations
|
Repeating conversations
|
Still, I can? speak long
|
The show has to go on
|
At best I, might question
|
The focus of my attention
|
Though, you know that I could bring it down
|
|
I want it all
|
Work to a fault
|
That breaks us in two
|
And always at play
|
The end of the day
|
I? alone and so are you
|
|
One waitress, invading
|
But I? content to make her wait
|
It? all I have
|
So far from home
|
Oh please stay on the phone
|
|
-----------------
|
Stay On The Phone
|
| The New Amsterdams |
