Caller ID

Cry for the hurts

Caused by stuck up souls

Chats over a cup of coffee

That tormented the politics of freedom

Have you ever heard

the cries of my soul

As I tell you how my dad’s dying

And my mother’s lying

to her soul.

Do you not see how I lie to you

When I say the pain is theirs, not mine

Do have a heart that dares

To look into another’s eyes?

No doubt you’ve lied of reputation

You’ve saved your own through refutation

You can say nothing to me

That isn’t true

‘Cause I know your number.

The pain you’ve had

Is buried in a cave of dissatisfaction

We dug you up

To get robbed of priority

Holding hands is like temptation

Bloody hell is left for Satan

Takes a grip to make one sick

And hope is lost amid frustration

Don’t call me again

Caller ID is the new thing

To fall into the swing of things

Is to let go of the past like we never knew

That I’d have your number

But you know what?

It’s the flames of fruition

That suck up the strokes of my pen.

No one owns no one.

No one knows no one.

No number is known.