Telephone

It's amazing what dreams can conjure...

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This is where big big clocks are found
Turning, ticking, no one around.
Lighted by some big old stars,
This is not where peace is found.

No one. No one.
No one is around.

Lights inside my weary head,
Cars and streets, empty, dead.
Call my telephone ring ring ring,
Listen to me, but don't hear a thing.

Everyone. Everyone.
No one is around.

Big big clocks inside my head,
Turning, ticking, everyone around.
Deafened by their screaming roars,
Time and sleep are ignored.

Walking madness.
Sleeping sadness.
Everyone, everyone, everyone around.

Men of God, their time is dwindling,
Praying, crying, their hearts burn.
God calls their telephones, ring ring!
But this is a church, no phones allowed.

Time to go, I'm leaving now.
Everyone everyone,
Without a sound.

This is where big big clocks aren't found,
Broken, shattered, everyone's around.
Darkened by eyes black as yours,
This is always where peace is found.