Telephone Book

I look at my telephone book
I can’t stand the way it look
I hate to think the way you took
Me down into a burning rage
I wrote your name on every page
But you don’t return my calls
I’m ready to bust down these walls
I’m going down Niagara Falls in a barrel of fun
Hey ain’t I a lucky one
My telephone is the color red
The red is all in my head
Some things are better left unsaid
Is that why you don’t try
To acknowledge or reply why
Did you hear from an old friend
I knew once way back when
I did some bad things to myself and my health
Or did you happen to hear an old song I once sang
Did it make your sweet sweet blood run cld in your veins
And will you never think of me the same