Hum Hotline

Dathlwch eich hun

Byddwch yn codi ac yn ddisgyn

Ac yn codi eto

Moving on the limp of a broken philosophy

I might get there by morning

If I can make it through this party

But I don't like vol-au-vents and cocaine's boring The night fell and started snoring

In the morning you'll find the truth And you best be fucking sad about it

Shoo the pigeons from the roof And don't you leave without it I spot a light and for now

It seems enough to follow

Beg, steal but don't borrow

You never know what you can give till tomorrow

Until the next one I'll be up and be gone

Until the next mare on the stair

I'll be there with fucking clogs on

Contact came through the screen, mind went blank, something was lifting me. Something was lifting me up! (Let me sit here for a while and listen to the hum hotline). My head is a puzzle now. Something was lifting me up.

Been there done that, got the werewolf t-shirt. There's nothing wrong with a little pain right? Is that really me, did I just say that?

Pussyfoot contradictions feel so good. And all these borders. What do they mean? Should I be expected to carry so many voices within me? Stand up, but don't be tall, puff out your chest, it's good for forgiveness and after all, amongst the muck and blackouts you're possibly thinking right now I do have a soul.

Let me sit here for a while