There’s a man with a telephone,
Getting undressed in a bedroom.
The lights are off but he’s on his own,
No one can see him wonder.
There’s a girl with a nightdress on,
Getting off on nothing,
Sees a long and bad world now,
Tell her something happy.
There’s a child nothing a do,
Standing up in town.
Dreams of a love that cannot go,
Thinks he’s in the wrong town.
Sheena had a nosebleed,
When she looked into the mirror.
There’s something going down my face,
Something red, leaves a trace,
I wonder how it got there,
Or what it is if it is there.
I’m the man with the telephone,
Standing at the bottom with the black shoes on,
Won’t you join in and dream with me,
We could be swimming off down the Nile,
Where flamingos used to swim,
Like goldfish in the spring,
Dipped their heads below the waves,
Took their wigs off, dried them in the sun,
For the amusement of everyone,
The birds were singing in the trees,
The air was frozen and unfrozen,
It was pleasing it was fresh because of the season,
And the grass had grown starchy and sweet,
And felt like little sugar dumplings under my feet,
Where the ice begins to thaw, where the cat begins to roar,
I see an angel in your eyes, not that I am surprised.
And if I was a man alone,
Crying in a bottle for my telephone,
Oh someone, I don’t care who, just be,
At the other end of the line.
There’s a future for people like you and me,
Who feel there’s nothing coming.
The streets and cars and houses shrink,
At last I can see my fingers.
There’s nothing more to fear.
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