When the phone rings
I first thought of myself and what I do
I’m dealing with death:
the bodies, and the families too.
Is it another corpse for me to take care of?
Ah yes… tough.
I’ve just cleaned up after the last client
the room was finally silent..
It was the dead baby twins…
whose life’s journey ends so abruptly as it begins.
But well,
beggars can’t be choosers.
And the future,
it doesn’t belong to the snoozers.
When the phone rings
I pondered if it would ever ring for me?
I guess not, at least not here, in the mortuary.
This place is all business,
it won’t get lonelier than this.
Yet still, I feel…
in this night full of thunder
I cannot help but to wonder…
…what if tonight, it rings for me alright?
I keep guessing if it would bring
some good tidings.
Would it chase away my fears,
into their hidings?
Or would it be bad?
What if it brings sad stuffs instead?
When the phone rings
I need to keep myself in check,
All my nerves, every beating veins inside my neck.
Because no, it can’t be her.
That’s only what I prefer.
Definitely not her,
not that lovely saboteur,
the one who caused my heart to stir,
she who flows like a drunken slur.
No, not her.
When the phone rings
Now I wonder…
What if it is her?
So when the phone rings
I answer.
