Mindweaver

He was a mindweaver, always on the phone

Telling me all sorts of hurt of his own

Although his voice was sweet to me

I wondered if we could ever be

He was a mindbeater, always on the phone

Telling me all sorts of what I did wrong

Although his voice was sweet to me

I wondered if we could ever be

He was a mindbender, always on the phone

Telling me all sorts of dream he has sewn

Although his voice was sweet to me

I wondered if we could ever be