The Telephone

from Raised By Weeds by Raised By Weeds

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lyrics

When I wake up in the morning
And the sun is in my eyes
Im going to tie my shoes up on my feet
And head out the door
Your going to sit there with that look on your face
And your hands on your head
Your going to sit there with that look
You wish that I was dead

You don't have to be alone
You always got the telephone
You don't have to be alone now baby
You always got the telephone

So I'm coming home to you now
And I can't figure out why
Your always going through my drawers
Smoking all my weed
It doesn't always go this way though
Sometimes we lay in bed all day
Until that banging on the door
Becomes the damage in my head
I feel like packing up my things now baby
I feel like hitting the road
I feel like packing up my things, never coming home
Forget about this thing called love

You don't have to be alone
You always got the telephone
You don't have to be alone now baby
You always got the telephone

credits

from Raised By Weeds, released May 11, 2012

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Raised By Weeds Windsor, Ontario

Raised by Weeds is a Garage Rock band from Windsor Ontario Canada featuring members Paul Jacobs (Guitar/Vocs), Matt Menard (Bass), and Chris Garant (Drums)

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