| It’s my constant calamities |
| And overcooked stubbornness ways, means I’m hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| It’s my bus-stop reality |
| I believe everything’s fine, but I’m just hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| Well I try to work it out, but nothing seems to satisfy |
| The taste in my mouth now, a bitter like O-T |
| And unloved grandmas, and opened up her jam jar |
| Of past pain narratives that I can seal shut |
| So slangin' slammin' screams just bounce round the living room |
| And eyes go red like brakelights, right but |
| Ain’t no sudden hopes or bolts out the blue |
| I’m left in a state of hue, true true |
| It’s my constant calamities |
| And overcooked stubbornness ways, means I’m hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| It’s my bus-stop reality |
| I believe everything’s fine, but I’m just hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| Hmm, ain’t spoke in maybe hmm about six months |
| And stand-offs similar to Westerns parts, so I |
| Plus one scenarios, and sit back and watch and |
| Partnered by rouge and fresh sore tooth and |
| Need some suger, like a wine gum thing so |
| Spring black humour, try to crow-bar a smile, and it |
| Works for a while, but forecast bleak |
| Dark clouds circling, rain then sleet |
| It’s my constant calamities |
| And overcooked stubbornness ways, means I’m hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| It’s my bus-stop reality |
| I believe everything’s fine, but I’m just hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| So if I try and call, will you pick up? |
| Or will I see the games never let up? |
| Tryin' out some olive branch-type tings |
| Things. Things. |
| So if I try and call, will you pick up? |
| Or will I see the games never let up? |
| Tryin' out some olive branch-type things |
| Some olive branch-type things |
| It’s my constant calamities |
| And overcooked stubbornness ways, means I’m hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |
| It’s my bus-stop reality |
| I believe everything’s fine, but I’m just hearing dial tones |
| Dial tones |