Phonebooks are Dead

Listening by the door
I thought I heard a sound
It wasn’t anyone I know
Your impatient jets
Are taking to the sky
They don’t queue for any show
Phonebooks are dead
No one ever reads them
Pages are lost
And I never got your number
Flowers in the stairwell
Nothing on the table
Fire in the cabinet
Numbers vague and useless
Alphabet is wrong
Filling in the blanks instead
Phonebooks are dead
No one ever reads them
Pages are lost
And I never got your number
Tapeless reels are left recording
Their own noises in the morning
Ask me anything
And I will answer every question
With a maybe
Phonebooks are dead
No one ever reads them
Pages are lost
And I never got your number