It's a common place I know That leaves us here as strangers Where once you held my gaze And quipped so fervently About the news on rotation
You left an impression on me Now you remark about the drizzling skies Oh, no more of the old life Wearing out the hackneyed smiles That never reach the eyes
Wish you would have thought Of staying open for a while Gave me your last orders I'm left staring down the dial And I've been left waiting here I've been biding my Time But the wires are down And I ain't your style
When did it become about email attachments Instead of late night conversations? And when did we lose the emotional attraction In pursuit of information?
Look at us made of wood and tin Now you're free to be The man you wish you'd been
Wish you would have thought Of staying open for a while Gave me your last orders I'm left staring down the dial And I've been left waiting here I've been biding my Time But the wires are down And I ain't your style
Strange place to go from 80 straight to 0 Now nothing's coming down the wire And you're too busy in your mind
Strange place to go from 80 straight to 0 Now nothing's coming down the wire And you're too busy in your mind
Wish you would have thought Of staying open for a while Gave me your last orders I'm left staring down the dial And I've been left waiting here I've been biding my Time But the wires are down And I ain't your style
Baby when The Wires Are Down And I ain't your style
Compositor: Lady Isobel Anne Fitzroy (Izo Fitzroy) ECAD: Obra #25974486