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Gigin alone at the bottom of the hill
Our protagonist named Bill
Sets his sights on an anchor steam pint
All he, needs is thirteen quarters
Congregated in his hat

A crow, a scavenger type
California redemption, provides him with his rent
Room and board inside of, a fifth, of comfort
As the wind penetrates his bones
His mind keep focused
Tidal waves of sound catapulted
From his horn, wail like lovers

The coins don t drop consistent as does the mercury
His meter slows realizing a zenith
He s reached perfection
No one did see him die

I don t udnerstand this, all pain pushed inside, all plastic frustration
Why you cannot be you, I am walking hate, all this surrounds me
I can t even try, I don t understand

Why I hate me

You do not see, I don...

In the cold wastes of north-world stand I.
Raging, towering above barren plains of
frost..
Those plains, fields eternal, pained by
biting cold..
At the end of the world I am.
The last monument of power..So sing songs,
sung by a folk perchance dead.
I guard the eternal void of...

Telephone……
Pick up the phone…
Umm Hmmm
Baby Pick up the phone

*Chorus*
I’m all alone
Baby pick up the phone ( Baby pick up the phone)
And call a brotha some time ( Call a brotha some time)
To see...

Check out the real situation
Nation war against nation
Where did it all begin, when will it end
Well it seems like total destruction
The only solution
And there ain t no use
No one can stop them now
Ain t no use...

Can you hear the music playing
Can you feel the rhythm swaying
This is the sound of dreams come true
And I can promise you that
You are the one and only
And I m the lost and lonely
We re the perfect dream...