Phantasthma

Old friend on the phone He bids you well on your subscriptions Lesser men, abandon power Remove the voice that cuts the air And while the sister brews the tea You think "I wish she knew the real me" Apologize for words He gave you a turn to hurt her Let it beat you down again One final conquest to convey And with emotions made of clay For hands cannot proclaim (Phantasthma, phantasthma, phantasthma) Sitting in the park, reading the dawn It tells all your stories Checkout time, the concrete grass I knew you were real Now you're mine again And what a fantastic morning What a fantastic morning