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• Artiste: Carl Hauck
• Titre: The Cell
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So this is how solitude commences With a paycheck in hand and only ghosts to spend it on Twilight injects a dose of mounting apprehension Alas, tomorrow's only nightmares away Apologies for misconstrued pretension Regret for every syllable that pumped the air between us The past subsists again given the circumstances And that's what I'm afraid of, yeah, that's what I'm afaid of I have long conversations with the cultured television And the silent companionship of the cordless telephone But my whole heart's devoted to a slutty corporation And I swear she loves me back, yeah, I swear she loves me back Well these wages are happiness, I've got to start pretending Despite the absence of a single vivid memory Of reassurance, of stage props set for acting Life's a joke, someday I'm hoping that I'll get it