I’m a single white male thirty-two years old
And I’ve never been too great with the women
Well if the truth’s being told I’m not much good with people
I’ve been alone in all the places I lived in
But fate had forgiven my shortcomings and brought something Forth from inside
me that guides me when a call comes in
It’s as if I’m blessed with a gift to talk someone into a spell unknown
When I’m lecturin' with the telephone
But forced run-ins: face to face are hella hard
I’m afraid to date, but somehow make a great telemarketer
Cause I can sell Antarctica ice in wintertime
With twenty-nine inches that won’t melt and mark up the price
Might be the fact I’m alone
But most of the human contact I’ve known I’ve always had through the phone
So when I get back to the home where I live now
I sit down and dial my old map to see who answers up
Half the old ones I get the message:
«The number you have reached has been disconnected»
With ten digits entered from another past number
The ringing interrupts a man’s slumber (Hello?)
And that was just from last summer (Hello?)
The change is enormous
And keepin' up to speed is a real game of endurance
I always get some lame little office specializing in claims for insurance
Or maybe the occasional florist
Corner Florist
Hello?
Hello?
I’m sorry, what’d you say?
Corner Florist
Is this a flower shop?
Yes
Oh, I’m sorry I think I have the wrong number
OK, bye
Bye
Why am I still searching, and for what I don’t know
Perhaps a real person or some version of love on the phone
It’s like these ten little buttons have grown
So significant, my will’s worthless fighting off the gluttonous jones
So I chose a different number to try
And I was thinkin' I’d end up ringing another old guy
But when I reached the third line what a surprise
It was the first time in my whole life
On the telephone my tongue was so tied
Hello?
Hello?
Uh- uh…
Is there somebody there?
I can hear you
It must’ve been something we shared in the weird few moments of rare
Silence when I was quiet like no one was there
So unprepared to ever get your voice
I fell in love though I was scared like I was left no choice
But you can expect most boys who get a first taste of love in their thirties
To revert to their seventh birthday
That’s probably why I went the worst way
And devised a plan to get to know her with my voice disguised and invented
surveys:
«Hello?» «Hi, I’m calling from the Census Department
I was hoping you could answer a few questions of ours, ma’am»
«Yeah, sure» «How many people live in your apartment?
What are their ages? And by chance is anyone partners?»
«Well, it’s just me. I’m 30 and I’m not married»
«Alrighty, do you move often, and have your jobs varied?»
«No, I’ve been here for the last 3 years
And, my jobs did you say?» «Yes ma’am, how many past careers?»
«Well, I’m not really a people person, I’ve always worked in a lab»
«Ma'am I don’t blame you with all the jerks that we have
I take it you don’t get out much to flirt with the lads?»
«Are you kidding? It’s just as well, men are perfectly crass»
Workin' the plans I had sown to build a rapport
I realized to have her by phone wouldn’t fulfill me no more
So using the skills I was born with
I got her address at home, killin' the calls
So I could see the best match that I’d known
Perhaps it was only a sad attempt to find the nerve it would take
To say goodbye to the phone and tell the girl to her face
«Well, I won’t put your day further to waste
Thanks for your time ma’am, sorry to disturb you, ok? …bye»
«Ok… bye»
Desperate times call for closer measures
So I left behind the telephone and bought some telephoto lenses
Parked in a car, like those old detectives I watched from afar
And saw that she lived by herself alone and friendless
Then what I noticed next would leave me livid
Her only guest was a handsome guy whose weekly visits
Had her cry, by the time he would leave
I’d bet the guy was an ex or current flame unless my eyes were deceived
I tried to believe she cried to relieve heartache
But this guy wouldn’t leave, it seemed she was liable to be in harm’s way
If I could just sneak in her place I’d find it would lead to a trace
Of why she would keep lettin' this creep within arms length
Gettin' the piece was the easy part
Cause if by chance I met him when I crept in through the window I would need
the arms
I was breathin' hard when I stepped in
Broke the glass into shards with the weapon and tore the bedroom where she
sleeps apart
That’s when a creaking part of the floor and a twisting knob on the door
Startled me — I turned with the gun and shot it before
I realized I killed my own love
I dropped on all fours sobbin' and coughin' 'til I spilled my own guts
I came to still on the rug in the same room
Filled with the stuff I had tossed around and then I found in plain view
What seemed to be a diary sittin' beside my knee
I couldn’t make my mind believe the words that I would finally read:
Page one: «Thursday: five o' three
I was trying to sleep before the night shift when this guy woke me
He had a voice that had a vibe so sweet
It was caught in my thoughts and just wouldn’t let my mind go free»
I skipped to page seventy-four and read a bit more
«The only thing that I look forward to is gettin' his calls
If only I could get up the gall
I would tell him I loved h-» I had to skip right to the end of it all
As for the last passage it began: «Why me?
Where’s my mystery man, God? How could you let this guy leave
Will all the bad times and depression I’ve seen
This just has to be the last life’s lesson I need
In fact this week’s visit with my little brother
He said if the cancer keeps gettin' worse it’ll kill our mother
He said the doc' said I should just accept that she’s dying
And from the second he left, I spent the rest of the week crying»
Let down, left out
Sad songs, poems, and lies
Don’t get your hopes up cause it gets the best of you
You get stepped on, let down, left out to dry, and you die
TanyaRADA пишет:
- спасибо! От Души!!! ( Улыбаюсь...)все так!!!Liza пишет:
Любимая песня моей мамы