Baby Hotline, please hold me close to you Baby flatline, still time to do it too (ha-ha-ha!) Baby snack time, chow down to earth But in your head she's a Hoarder of quarters And no boundary boredom-dom Boundary boredom! I contend that your drinking eye has never opened I insist somebody will die, and I hate hoping Wishing that the pills let you cry, and I hate coping Someday I will go back outside and see her, okay