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Telephone Booth - Acoustic

de Ian Moss

I can't hide it,
so good to be here.
Lost in transit,
out on a free year.
There's no truth,
eyeing me sideways.

Just a telephone booth,
on a highway.

I ain't hiding,
there's been no breakdown.
Where I'm aiming,
I see the sundown.
One horizon,
eyeing me sideways.

Just a telephone booth,
on a highway.

Everything for miles,
is high on the silence.
Everything's my way.

Where I'm calling,
there's no religion.
No-one falling,
my absolution.
Is all truth,
eyeing me sideways.

In a telephone booth,
On a highway.

I stand ready,
for any new direction.
That the sun may lead me down.
Everything for miles,
is high on the silence.
Everything's my way.

In a telephone booth,
On a highway.

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