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