The Telephone Is Empty

The telephone is empty
And now I realize the time
Good music, it’s a pure form
A pure form of sympathy
And if you break my system
I’ll burn you down
This music, it’s a pure form
A pure form for sympathy
But I’m so scared of driving
Down same old lonely roads
Drinking to see for a moment
Drinking to forget things
Drinking to forget and remember nothing
Drinking and driving let’s catch another
Plane
Flame
The telephone, it’s empty
And now I realize the time