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When The Lines Go Down
Trees sent communiques to bed.
Fingerprints found tampering, fiberoptic brambling.
Instant messages sent to your bed.
Pillowcase up in the trees.
Press your face up in the trees.
Press your face up in the pines.
Text your message through the vines.
Press your face up in the pines.
Born without any anytime minutes to lose.
This wood is deep and I'm not dead.
Deep in the thicket, I'm not dead.
Service continues, I'm not dead.
Continues, I'm not dead.
We can stay in touch today.
We can stay in touch this way so we can stay and touch.
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