Payphones all were ringing as the crowd went roarin' by
Lovely dancers swayin' to an island lullaby
Beside the southern ocean taking stock of what's to be
Writing you this letter that you'll probably never see
But I can't help but be
Ruled by inconsistencies
Not unique just distantly in love
Tried to phone from Paris thinking things could be arranged
I can't be the one to fill
Your times and all your places
I can't be the one to fill
Your blanks and empty spaces
I heard it from a friend of ours I saw in Timber Bay