Well let's stop pretending   This is not a nerve ending   We've touched on before   Like a delicate dancefloor   When what was once exciting   Has now gone out the window   Kicking and biting   Like a decrepit dog of war   That has wits about him   Too determined to implore   Too deluded to ask for   That hand that let him out the front door      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine      Well now you're in trouble   You believe you're seeing double   Those nightstand eyes and pillow fury   I hate to burst your bubble   But this humiliation it's cracked your [?skin name?]   Timing frustration with a face-full of strain      While squinting at the poetry   And all the words in the night   Keeping the light off   The mirror where the pages lie      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine      Let's stop flashing this madness   To accompany the thunder   Hey the hissing sound of sadness   But remember I have your number      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine      This side of the phone line   It's a reflex to rewind   When the context is a confine   No matter what you say   You're an answering machine   x3      Yeah yeah   La la la la, lalalalalalala   Yeah yeah   La la la la, lalalalalalala