You live in Boston, but it feel like you're here
You always told me you're queer
But I happen to know that you like girls
You're the victim of the mainstream affair
But don't you pull out your hair
Holding girls hands on the back porch
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the things that I can't talk about
When I'm with you
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the messages
We broke down in your living room
You live in Santa Cruz, but it feels like you're here
You always told me your fears
Late at night - on the telephone
You're the victim of the teachers and peers
Who always split all their hairs
Over textbooks and student loans
You took your books and ran away
Before the train left we were safe
But now it all looks opaque
The Phone Booth - Boston + Santa Cruz Lyrics
The Phone Booth - Boston + Santa Cruz Lyrics
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You live in Boston, but it feel like you're here
You always told me you're queer
But I happen to know that you like girls
You're the victim of the mainstream affair
But don't you pull out your hair
Holding girls hands on the back porch
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the things that I can't talk about
When I'm with you
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the messages
We broke down in your living room
You live in Santa Cruz, but it feels like you're here
You always told me your fears
Late at night - on the telephone
You're the victim of the teachers and peers
Who always split all their hairs
Over textbooks and student loans
You took your books and ran away
Before the train left we were safe
But now it all looks opaque
You always told me you're queer
But I happen to know that you like girls
You're the victim of the mainstream affair
But don't you pull out your hair
Holding girls hands on the back porch
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the things that I can't talk about
When I'm with you
And I'm trying hard to figure out
All the messages
We broke down in your living room
You live in Santa Cruz, but it feels like you're here
You always told me your fears
Late at night - on the telephone
You're the victim of the teachers and peers
Who always split all their hairs
Over textbooks and student loans
You took your books and ran away
Before the train left we were safe
But now it all looks opaque
Writer: Michael Easbey
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid