| The OGM on our machine
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| Began with we’re not here now
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| But you went and changed the «we» to «no one»
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| Do you mean us or me?
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| Your new outgoing voice
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| Sounds bright and brave and very clear now
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| In those seconds you recorded it
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| I guess that you felt free
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| I started out my message
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| With a pause that I aborted
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| When I addressed you oddly
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| By your given Christian name
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| Then I told you who was calling you
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| That felt downright sordid
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| But if I sounded sad and timid
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| I achieved my aim
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| There’s a machine where I’m staying
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| That displays a big fat zero
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| But last night I arrived
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| To find a scary bright red one
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| So I pressed play and pretty soon
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| I could feel all my fear go
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| The few silent seconds that you’d left me
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| Are erased and gone now
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| Tonight at last we finally spoke
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| You sounded rather giddy
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| You said you’d had a few drinks
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| And you’d been playing with the cat
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| When I told you that I missed you
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| Your reply to me was «Really?»
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| Then you said you might have found
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| Someone to share the flat
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| I said I’d call in a few days
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| You know I’ll keep my promise
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| Yes I miss you, is it over?
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| I don’t really know
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| As for any messages
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| I’ll try to keep them honest
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| And when I hear that no one’s there now
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| I’ll just scream…"hello" |