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In the company of four walls
disconnected telephone
stretched out across the shag rug
wishing for a dail tone

slack face erased the days spent laughing
burned in crows feet and a furrowed brow
been dreaming of a day less wasted
don't dare to think it might be now

might be
might be

sore throat, red eyes, sick soul
got the complete package zero dollars down
weather's been growin cold
don't bother with the thermostat
the furnace is busted anyhow

I cannot belive two years have slipped by
and I feel so out of place
a stand up comic at a funeral
screaming along at a snails pace
you probably cringe at the thought of my face
and I assure you the feeling's mutual

it's magical
I'm outta here

I don't know what I'm doing here