The Jazz June
the phone works both ways
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Turn out the lights
the rings an instant answer
Blacken the lights
On all the easy lies
I'm writing a letter I hope you won't get until it's over
I don't want to fight, but your arguments are shooting arrows
They are shooting arrows
The phone works both ways
Let's just pretend that we knew this all along
and when you were gone that you'd that you still find me