Oh, it s cold and lonely here-
here in this telephone booth
There s three sides to every story:
Yours and mine and the cold, hard truth
I think there s something missing round here
I don t know where it s gone
Nothing was delivered
And I tell this truth to you,
Not out of spite or anger
But simply because it s true.
Now, I hope you won t object to this,
Giving back all of what you owe,
The fewer words you have to...
Snuffed tapers sighed
As Death left impressing
His crest of cold tears on the Countess
Benighted like ill-fated Usher
The House of Bathory shrouded
Neath griefs dark facade
If only I could have wept
In mourning by Her side
I m gonna turn it on up
And let the sound be your memory
The sound be your memory of this night
You better believe this is lucky day,
I promise
You hook up with me
and I ll blow you away, no worries
And you will never be...