scared to death of the telephone
cringe at the thought of
Hard to keep my self satisfied
and keep my head straight
I
You flew Away
I'm sick of all the imports
Now you're scared
Sometimes I wish that I could
climb inside a cave
i dont want to talk to you
you don't seem to
I got an A for the day in Mr. Bishops
When I saw you standing there
It was crystal clear to
blur the days togeather
postcards spread across my legs
books and bottles
Dishearted on this piece of paper
covered black and blue in
One light to the next, short distances between
numbers of the
i cant remember the last time i felt this bad
and
Scared to death of the telephone. Cringe at the thought
It's so hard to swallow, all the lumps in my
This is what I get, I guess I'm not your
Cold fronts go continental and the sunshine state's on fire.
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