There's a telephone ringing in an empty room
And car brakes squealing
Distant traffic, constant sighing
Far-off voices mumbling
Vah-vah-vah, jet plane droning
Dogs barking, kitchens moaning
Dishes rattling in a sink
A screen door slams
Someone's laughing

Grass is being softly trembled
Heavy object dragged on gravel
Children screaming
My own heart beating
Fighting down the panic, panic, panic

Shapeless silhouettes slipping
Just out of sight
Car headlights screaming
Inescapable light
Telephone voice droning
The words can't be right
You were warm, even breathing
This Sunday last night

Lying formless faces
Turning away
Deaf lips fall silent
No words to say
If only they'd leave me
Perhaps you might stay
In my windowless room
Night turns to day

There's a crack in my walls
And it looks just like you
Sometimes my sheets are the hills of Arabia
But someone always pulls them down again

Now I think I can hear you
An inaudible sigh
In the mirror I see you're
In-betweening by
And I reach out to touch you
This must be a lie
I call out your name
But there is no reply

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): Mark Gane, Martha Ladly