| Pick up the phone
|
| I’m pregnant with your baby
|
| I wanted you to know
|
| The dreams I’ve been having lately
|
| I woke up, I woke up from an explosion
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| And the city speaks in sirens
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| And the wreckage is my angel of devotion
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| A dying light inside him
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| And I try to tell you something
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| But my mouth fills up with water
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| You say finally you found me
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| And suddenly I’m drowning
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| Pick up the phone
|
| I’m trying to say sorry
|
| The things that you should know
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| Are weighing heavy on me
|
| Well it’s nothing can’t be fixed with a hot bath and
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| A fifth of mother’s ruin
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| All forgone for the duration with deranged and maybe eaten
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| Drunken sex with strangers
|
| And his wife didn’t stop crying
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| For at least a week he told me
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| But at least she got the kids and half a million
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| I just assumed that she was sleeping
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| And I fall in love in the only way I know
|
| As I’m diving into the mouth of a hungry volcano
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| I walk not recognizing sight reflections
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| As I lay next to the next one with you on my mind
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| Pick up the phone
|
| Pick up the phone
|
| Pick up the phone
|
| I let the wrong one go |