You’re all waiting, yeah we’re all waiting for the call on the telephone

When I laughed back at the laugh track
I laughed hard from all my soft parts
and my smarts tempted to fix it
to fit it into the rigid edges of what I live in
attempted but it didn’t
I’m sketching up something different
a picture that was never pitched on thirty second clips, this is it
and no amount of that will reconcile what’s missing, or isn’t
but don’t it beckon louder if you listen
there’s goes the recipe
find the pressure that’s pressing me
then tempter my tendencies
too much to render a memory or forge an identity
at the edge of my empathy, I’ve had enough
and the walls they just might cave
or I just might find that train to come and take me away
but it’s sealed in cellophane, a melamine escape
what better way to celebrate while I sit and waste the hell away?

We’re all waiting, yeah we’re all waiting for the call on the telephone

Hold on tight she begged me dearly
I promise darling, I’ll won’t let you go
The city lights seemed to dance so clearly
behind the soft focus of the falling snow
huddled close as the wind came tearing
through the concrete canyon
my fingers long since lost their feeling
but I could feel hers creeping underneath my coat
or that one summer evening
in the grass, fireworks above
we laughed between our kissing
as the ash rained down on us
and I never even looked to the sky to see the explosions of light
every rocket took flight was reflected alive
in the pale blue eyes of my love
but I’ve never seen her before
she just lived when my eyes closed
but I could feel her so real, I swear her lips grazed my ear lobe
I seen our family grow
I lived those problems we faced
I memorized her every line and know just how her skin tastes 
so go on and leave me to rest
speak only sweetness on breath
cause in my dreams we live and breathe and when I awake I am dead
but that’s just tricks of the mind
the lie the loneliness buys
some dreams are so damn beautiful you hope you never wake up


You’re all waiting, yeah we’re all waiting for the call on the telephone


And I’ve always got one eye on the clock
and a nagging thought, something else and I knew it
and it may not stop and it might be my ruin
a spinning top on top of my “what the hell am I doing?”
but this is it, this is the place, don’t let that high go to waste
I can’t pull me down
I don’t care what grass what shade
I’m a turbine spinning blade
I’m an oil rig drilling but it runs me dry
sometimes I stare at your picture wondering how did I get here
and compare your time to mine
but that’ll get me nowhere probably
I could blame it on the human body
evolution of the movement sloppy
breaker, breaker, does someone copy?

With my hands up and my guard down
and it pumped up, but it let down
and it said jump but I stayed ground
and nothing happened
but something happened

There goes the recipe
find the pressure that’s pressing me
then temper my tendencies
too much
to the edge of my empathy
maybe I’ve had enough