Phone Booth in Heaven

Oh where are we going? Oh where have we been? Our hush-a-bye angel, she's safe and tucked in. I drive around town, while

you sit and watch the rain. There's what you think with your heart and what I feel with my brain. For those who plant

nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone booth in heaven that no one is calling. It sits on a highway that

leads nowhere. I'll drop you a line next time I find myself there. Remembering them days, how we wore our weakness well.

There's some say that heaven can't exist without hell, well if the proof's in the pudding, and that axiom's true, somehow

the heart of the matter escaped me and you. For those who plant nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone

booth in heaven that no one is calling. Though the ghosts of redemption might whisper odd promises, I for one don't put

much faith in them specters. Now the blueprint for sorrow is just to put off the hurt 'til the price of tomorrow becomes

more than love's worth. 'Til what's begged and what's stole is just the hollow remains of some beautiful failure that we

cling to in vain. For those who plant nothing but the seeds of the falling there is a phone booth in heaven that no one is

calling. The truest word heard there is the word that's unspoken 'cause you can't mend what the Good Lord designed to be

broken. Oh where are we going? My darling oh where? Our sweetheart's in dreamland, please let her stay there. We are two

separate people, with two separate ways. Until we come to our senses, it's our sweetheart that pays.