Transmission Lost

If you move your lips a little closer to the phone

And if I cover up my eyes, I'm not alone

I can feel your hand touching my neck

And against my skin, your hot breath

From where I stand, I can see the signal tower

Catching the setting sun in the golden hour

The gilded girders and the satellite dishes

Facing the great beyond, catching all the wishes

There's a sudden crackling coming down the line

Transmission may be lost at any time

But there's a sound that when I hear it feels like coming home When you move your lips a little closer

To the phone