Dial Tones

Lucy Rose:

It's my constant calamities

And overcooked stubborness ways

Means I'm hearing dialtones dialtones

It's my bus stop reality

Outwardly, everything's fine

But I'm just hearing dialtones dialtones

Ghostpoet:

Well I try to work it out

But nothing seems to satisfy

The taste in my mouth now

Bitter like old tea

And unloved Grandmas

And opened up a jam jar

Of past pain narratives

That I can still shut

So slanging slamming screams

Just bounce round the living room

And eyes go red like brake lights right

But ain't no sudden hopes or

Bolts out the blue

I'm left in a state of hue, true, true

Ghostpoet:

Hmm

Ain't spoke maybe hmm, about six months

And stand up similar to Weston's parts

So I plus one scenarios and sit back and watch

And partnered by rouge or fresh saw tooth

And need some sugar like a wine gum fiend

So spring black humour try and crowbar a smile

And it works for a while

But forecast's bleak

Dark clouds circling

Rain then sleet

Ghostpoet & Lucy Rose:

So if I try and call will you pick up?

Or will our silly games never let up?

I'm trying out some olive branch tactics