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Red phone. Hotline. Someone pick it up in time.

Wake up in the darkness scratching at the silk.

King of confessors. Very sharp dresser.

Charm in motion. Dilly-dally. Sleeping on the job.

Catalog of symptoms. Tell me what you’re thinking.

The world’s in the shits and the plumbing’s on the fritz.

Decorate the room just to please the girl’s family.

You’ll get yours a little later when the hangers on are gone.


Now you want me to tell you what happens tomorrow?

You’ve got the wrong boy, Mac.

How in the world could I know or explain a big mistake like this?


Situation zero. Mayday-Mayday. 

Listen what your heart is saying, fading far away.

Away to the Arctic zone. Eardrums. Nose bones.

Click your heels three times, get me out of this.

Stop for awhile, Mike. I’m a little hungry. 

We could get a little something at the Lazarus clown,

or at the golden arches of your dark red oblivion.

I can just taste it. Mmmmmmm...


Bamboo fingernails hanging from a tightrope.

Sliding down my entrails. One clear second now.

Give me a moment where I could just wipe the blood 

off my face and stop this blurring now.

Bad dog, naughty cat. Mediocre’s where it’s at.

Waiting for the psychopath to bust in your door.

Sweetheart. Stickpin. Never ask me how I’ve been.

I’m hanging on the red phone. Hanging on the hotline.



Scott Connor- Drums

Jim Walker- Guitars, Bass, Keys, Lead Vx, Bg Vx

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