What's better than a devil you know? A call away from empty words, better left a dead end Never imposed A bitter never-come-to-terms Closed off to your call box A mental image you've come to loathe You'll never seem to shake his voice It's only at your lowest low, you're all alone Closed to your darling call box I won't relive to revive your ego again Nothing left to believe you'll learn from Nothing left but to cut the line A dead end, closed call box Your mistake here to pick up the toll A chance in hell says I might've called A bitter never-come-to-terms A part of me, no better than you Scars left from a hate unlearned A tourniquet to deaden the hue A consequence of which you've earned At your lowest low, you're alone