What's better than a devil you know?
A call away from empty words, better left a dead end
Never imposed
A bitter never-come-to-terms

Closed off to your call box

A mental image you've come to loathe
You'll never seem to shake his voice

It's only at your lowest low, you're all alone

Closed to your darling call box
I won't relive to revive your ego again
Nothing left to believe you'll learn from
Nothing left but to cut the line

A dead end, closed call box

Your mistake here to pick up the toll
A chance in hell says I might've called
A bitter never-come-to-terms

A part of me, no better than you
Scars left from a hate unlearned
A tourniquet to deaden the hue
A consequence of which you've earned

At your lowest low, you're alone