Lyrics:
bros
I'm despa to see toes, done with Khan, we pros
You a liar, liar, pants on fire, hanging on a telephone wire
Gonna get the band, gonna get the whole
or mumbling
But you were always the last to know
Cause when it all starts spinnin
I guess I'll be spinnin too
And if you can't tell the telephone who can you
just be in love
Now the whole world's in bed sleeping
I think we're finally alone
And if the telephone starts ringing
We'll pretend like we're not
I caught you knockin' at my cellar door
I love you, baby, can I have some more?
Oh, oh, the damage done
I hit the city and I lost my band
I watched
Porsche books bands
At the pink Cadillac
She can do what she wants
She's got a black magic hat
And Mr. Book is
Always up and down
But
all been less than grand
There's no more police escorts or the high school welcome bands
I'm no lie detector
He's no bullshit talker and we both
things ain't been so good, there's something goin' down
It happened just a year ago; someone hired a band
They had a dog and pony show that got clean out
alone
But I heard the news today across the telephone
They a said a boy from a band
With a good looking future had it taken away
And all that you've
I give you no reasons why
I lay in bed all day
My curtains are drwn until midnight
And i yell into the telephone
Wait for me
Until I show a vital
going downtown tonight
Telephone poles pregnant with posters on the corner
Hyping play-for-nothing bands of hipsters and a Hohner
Double dealing villains
Charts are like a puzzle
Hitmen wearin' muzzles
Hesitate, you die
Look around, around
The second drummer drowned
His telephone is found
Music scene is
So grab your pitchforks and start sayin' the Word
You'll be loud and your voice will be
Heard
You pay the telephone man to make you smile
Ear from
you're late
All I do is win
Negativity in the bin
Filtering shit now the streets look clean
And I'm taking my wheels for a spin
Niggas be busting a nut
Me
The picture fell out of her hand
Through the streets of filth and by the avenue of power and a telephone stand
And the filth and the stream of rain sustained
on the telephone
He told me 'bout a jam that I could do later on
10 G's plus a limo for one strong song
So I said, yeah, I was with it, hung up and got geared
crossed
Communication's lost
Can't even get you on the telephone
Just got to shout about it
I'm losing you
Here in the valley of indecision
I don't
to niggas, perfect your own speech
Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands
Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands
Niggas look on, and get
Yeah
You hurda me
Nah
Ain't No Comparison
What's a Supra to a Benz
What's a paper to a pen
Who got cash no card
Who got bands on hand
I got more
I'd like 2 let u all know including Maz
that this song is by
"THE UNDERTONES" as a band-
not just Feargal Sharkey he was on
vocals but he wasnt
in the village
The house band is a playin
Don't plan for tomorrow
'cause everybody's stayin
overnight at the pirate's patch
You won't believe
telephone
No matter what you're dreaming of
It's raining sugar from above
And you can have it in your own cone
I've been down to the mountain and up through
direction and chaos it will bring
You'd better shut your mouth, better watch your tone
You're grounded for a week with no telephone
Don't let me hear you
could be me
Well the band was playing and the stage was bright
And the conversation was sweet and hot
Hey girl you have come a long way since Emily
track tape
You know the band performs in the nude"
He said, "Uh-huh, don't call us, child, we'll call you"
Woo
Well, listen, kid, you paid for
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