A phone conversation goes 180.
Jazz pop tune with syncopated vocals and female background voice on the out-tro.
I’m not the brightest guy but give me a break. I’m not in a coma.
All the darts you throw at me it’s there so even I can see you’re mad, real mad.
Tell me the truth. You thinking of leavin?
Oh sure I can take it. No no wait! My heart you’ll break it and that’s sad, way sad.
You pronounced me schizo. Ok, maybe I am.
But the good news is a man like me can change.
Flirting with the tragic in the nick of time
There’s no denying that you’ve said it before, like over and over.
Not the man you thought I’d be. Your faith in the potential me is gone gone gone.
What are the odds, we patch it together?
I start acting right again and prove your little birdie friend is wrong wrong wrong.
I got no ambition. Yeah but what if I do,
and the path I chose was not revealed to you?
Dancing with disaster—in the nick of time
In Cinema World, they always seem to get their man.
End up in love because they can
Queue the band.
I wonder what they do after the end
When the credits spin
Lights come on again
We stop looking in
Just for a minute but I’m listening now. So what were you saying?
Oh I’m sure you covered it and stamped it out in triplicate so there’s no doubt.
I’ve got a tone. I know you can hear it.
Started out inside my head and later found my mouth instead and it will shout.
I had me a vision, of a loser in love.
But the girl he’s with did not resemble you.
What I’m trying to tell ya
I was always fine.